<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>hymn of the summoner by andreil</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952198">hymn of the summoner</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/andreil/pseuds/andreil'>andreil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All For The Game - Nora Sakavic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Demon Andrew/Human Neil, Demons, M/M, Neil Josten is a Mess, Prophecy, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:10:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/andreil/pseuds/andreil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Since he was a child, Neil Josten has been called The Prophecy. His father, obsessed with the occult, claimed great things would come once his son died. Neil never believed in any of it, until he accidentally summons a demon of his own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>243</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. revival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i've been working on this for a few months, but because i tend to fail at multi-chapter fics, i made sure i wrote at least 10+ chapters before i started posting. i'll make sure i upload at least once a week. i hope you enjoy reading! please, if you think something should be tagged, feel free to comment.</p>
<p>to look forward to in this chapter: neil dies (kinda)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Nathaniel Wesninski was a boy, he saw his father bowing to a star. </p><p>The star was etched into the floor of their basement like a painting. It was red and muddy, blackened in strange places. His father’s fingers were covered in the crimson substance as if he’d drawn the star himself. Around the star was a large circle. Later, he’d learned it was a pentagram.</p><p>He’d watched as his father lowered himself to the star and laid his head on the floor in what could only be described as worship. A dead, mangled body laid near his feet. Nathan Wesninski whispered words that his son could not hear from the staircase.</p><p>Burdened by curiosity, the Wesninski child took another crouched step down into the basement, closer so he could hear the exchange.</p><p>The stair creaked. His father shot his head up, instantly removed from his steady focus, breaking a chant that had not meant to be disturbed.</p><p>That day, Nathan taught his son punishment.</p><p>And Nathaniel learned to loathe the occult.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Neil Josten ran because that was all he knew. And, well, because people were chasing him.</p><p>This was normal for Neil, and he ran without panic. Remaining level-headed was a priority, so he could think carefully about his next move. The moon was high, streets thinning, not yet desolate. Pointless regret churned inside him. He should not have gone into the city tonight. He should’ve stayed in the abandoned suburban house where he’d been squatting in a cold attic with its low beams and rusted nails. Uncomfortable but perfect for hiding.</p><p>Except he hadn’t had anything but pieces of an energy bar for days, and both his stomach and his bored mind had started to hate him. He could no longer stare at the wooden panels around him, could no longer pace back and forth in the bare few feet of attic space.</p><p>Upon entering the suburban outskirts and breaking into the empty house to get away from those trailing him, Neil hadn’t left the house for an entire week. His only break from the mind-numbing attic were his trips to the bathroom down below.. He had cursed himself for not having more food in his pack, but it was the large water bottle stuffed along with his supplies that kept him alive.</p><p>After the seventh dizzying day of nothingness, he convinced himself to get food. What good would he be in a fight for survival if he was weak and underfed? It wasn’t smart.</p><p>Whoever had chased him into town was surely far gone.</p><p>He’d left the house less than an hour ago. There were dozens of convenience stores in the city. Neil would have chosen the one closest to the city’s outskirts, but the edges of the city were flooded with people and clubs and too much music. At the sight of those chattering crowds, a chill slithered up his spine, and he’d detoured to a quieter block.</p><p>When he’d rounded a corner, a group of men blocked his way, talking in a private circle on the corner of the street. Neil sidestepped them easily, thinking nothing of it, until he caught a whiff of familiar aftershave, a specific and strong scent that had followed him more than once.</p><p>Neil immediately put his head down as he walked on.</p><p>It was not enough. These men were sharp, trained. One grabbed Neil’s arm, forcing him to stop. Neil was prepared for an immediate fight, but the man hesitated, his eyes scanning Neil’s. The man was unsure whether or not this was the boy they were looking for, and that was the only sliver of opportunity Neil needed.</p><p>He pulled his arm against the man’s grip and let it swing back. The back of his hand and wrist smashed into the man’s nose, where he felt a sick crunch against his skin. Surprised, the man’s hold on him loosened, and Neil ran.</p><p>“Motherfucker —” one said. Footsteps throttled on after him, booms against the cobblestone.</p><p>He ran like he’d learned: never a straight line, as many turns around corners he could manage. He ran with light feet, backpack slapping against his back. His body, lithe, made each turn with flowing ease. </p><p>He’d studied the map of the city in the attic, and knew nearly every side street and dead-end alley. His only problem was that the men chased him into the city, not out of it toward freedom. He cursed internally for not going to the first convenience store he’d seen, where the crowds of people might have swallowed him up. So much for wanting peace and distance.</p><p>A shadow emerged from the building to his right. Quick, heavy as a beast, a body jumped atop Neil and sent them sprawling into the street. There was a loud ‘thunk!’ as his head smacked into the pavement. He groaned, tried to push himself up, and failed under the pressure of his shaking arms.</p><p>“You’re not a fucking ghost,” laughed the man who’d tackled him. He knew that voice. Mike Leonetti. Not in his father’s personal circle, but still under his father’s command. Leonetti was an ambitious man with a wild streak. <i>Unordered</i>, his father had called him. A man who needed discipline, but proved himself useful because of his undisputed bloodlust. “I knew I’d find you here, Little Wesninski. Mice always come out of their hole in the wall.”</p><p>Leonetti’s saliva was falling from his mouth as if he were rabid. By the way he looked at Neil, he might as well have been a caged animal, starved by its master.</p><p>Neil struggled beneath the man and ignored the twist of nausea in his gut. The night sky, bled orange from street lamps and city lights, blurred above him. He bit back another groan and settled for a pained grunt.</p><p>“That’s it,” Leonetti urged in amusement. “Fight me back.”</p><p>Neil spit up into his face. The spit hit Leonetti’s eyelid. Leonetti laughed, gripped Neil by the head, and smashed him into the ground once more.</p><p>Blackness greeted him, but not for long. He woke seconds or minutes later, still in the city, bleeding from his head and being dragged away by a very large man. His brain felt like it was rolling in his head like a very slippery bowling ball, rattling and throbbing beyond his own understanding. Neil began to struggle.</p><p>He knew the man wouldn’t drop him, but struggling always slowed them down. The sick emptiness of his stomach made his movements lag. He kicked and wiggled and moved his shoulders and arms and did, eventually, vomit onto the man’s back. </p><p>“Jesus Christ,” the large man said. “How much longer, Leonetti?”</p><p>“Shut up,” said Leonetti, a bit too jovly for his harsh quip. He patted Neil on the back as they walked. The other men were there, too, following behind and in front. Neil counted five in total. “Boston is a strange city to land yourself in. Were you trying to reach Canada, Nathaniel? You know we’d go there for you, too. We’d follow you anywhere. You’re our prophecy. You’re worth quite a bit.”</p><p>If Neil weren’t so dizzy, he’d roll his eyes. Prophecy, his ass.</p><p>They trudged on, Neil’s fight never quite leaving. It was satisfying to hear some of his kicks land hard. When one of the men got too close, Neil swung out his hand and clawed at their face. The resulting streaks of blood nearly made him grin.</p><p>They were not taking him to a car, which struck Neil as wrong because these were Nathan Wesninski’s men. The Butcher of Baltimore’s word was final, and he had ordered them to find his son and bring him back alive. Yet those around him carried him to a wooded park, far from Boston’s nightlife.</p><p>The greenery was one giant presence, the trees bunched together in a black outline against the sky. They were deep into the trail, the path merging from cement to dirt and ferns. Leaves crunched beneath the men’s feet. The wind whistled, a soft howl. Branches shifted, and the moon was high and red.</p><p>Neil was in a personal fight with his consciousness when the men stopped.</p><p>Leonetti was speaking, though his words swam in and out. “Here - the knife - his arm.”</p><p>The large man whose shoulder he’d been thrown over wrestled Neil around, forcing him to stand. His forearms pinned Neil to his chest. Leonetti grabbed Neil’s arm and pulled it to him, but Neil yanked it back to himself. Someone reached over to smack Neil where he’d hit his head on the floor, and Neil gasped through the agony. He let Leonetti take his arm. </p><p>“Don’t be scared to cry,” Leonetti prompted, and sliced a sharp blade straight across Neil’s forearm.</p><p>Neil did not cry. He bit his lip until the skin there broke and watched as his blood pooled out and into the dirty terrain. He watched as Leonetti pushed his foot into the ground and dug out a shape with the dirt and his blood. It became a circle in a star, a pentagram, a sigil for a higher power.</p><p>“I give this blood unto thee.” Leonetti finished the design and eyed the ground with an unhinged smile on his face. His eyes lifted to find Neil. The grin stretched. “Come here, boy.”</p><p>Horror settled in as they pushed him toward the symbol. Neil tried to back himself into the immovable chest behind him. He shook his head frantically.</p><p>“No,” he said. “No, you can’t. My father wants me for this. You can’t -”</p><p>“I can,” Leonetti interrupted. “I have no loyalty. Nathan knows that, and has made the mistake of trusting me. We here, this team -” He waved his hand at the other four men who stood around. “We want the power for ourselves and we will receive it. I’ll see it through. We will have the promise of the prophecy.”</p><p>“The prophecy is bullshit!” Neil shouted. His words were choppy and scared. He couldn’t help it; his death was right here, right before his eyes, waiting for him like it always had been. “There’s no promised power! You’re all idiots! Satan isn’t real, and once you perform your stupid fucking ritual, you’ll receive nothing but my death.”</p><p>Leonetti tilted his head. He nodded. “I’ll happily have that, too.”</p><p>Neil fought then. It was what he’d done his whole life, and what he’d do in his last moments. He did everything in his abilities while the men shouted and tossed around orders and grabbed his flailing limbs. These men were not just idiots. They were obsessive worshippers of a false being who’d do nothing to better their pathetic lives. Neil sneered and growled and let loose a string of curses on them, angry despite the vulnerability of his position.</p><p>Loathing ate him up, made him furious in his last moments.</p><p>The mafia of America had somehow likened themselves to the occult, and the search for power and guidance had been there ever since Neil was born.</p><p>It was all myth and legend, though. Nothing of substance. These men would be disappointed like all the others before them. Like the morons who lit candles and chanted for Satan to hear, but ended with nothing but melted wax on the floors and disappointment.</p><p>Every man held one of Neil’s limbs, Leonetti at his head. They lowered him onto the sigil. The ground was dry and cold. It was winter, but it’d be spring soon. He hoped if there was an afterlife it was perpetually autumn, a cool balance between heat and frost.</p><p>“You will rot for this,” Neil hissed. “You’ll burn.”</p><p>“The blessed don’t burn, they rise.” Leonetti held the knife over Neil’s heart and shallowly shoved the tip beneath his clothes and skin. “Stop moving or I’ll start with an eye and a leg, understand?”</p><p>Neil froze. His heart was pounding against his chest where the knife rested, his breathing labored and unnatural.</p><p>This was not happening. Neil urgently glanced at all the men, trying to take in their details and find a way to escape, a hole in their plan. All he saw were moving blurs dancing beneath the trees, streaks of dark color. Frustratingly, his eyes were wet. He glared up at the heavy moon and blinked to clear his vision.</p><p>“I forsake those who deny the rebellion. I give my soul for The Adversary. Hail thee, the Antichrist!”</p><p>Neil thought of his mother, whose nails dug into his shoulders as she begged her son to burn her before they could use her for their rituals. In her last moments, she pleaded for death, and Neil gave it to her. She’d been alive when he set the car on fire. She’d smiled at him through the window while flames licked her arms.</p><p>Still, Neil figured it was preferable to this.</p><p>Where did one go after death when they’d been used like this? Hopefully he’d be sent to a limbo where he could sleep for all of eternity.</p><p>“Under thy command and through my reverence, I give this sacrifice unto thee.”</p><p>The blade burrowed into Neil’s chest without warning. In one single stroke, it pushed against his flesh and dug into Neil’s heart.</p><p>Neil cried out. This was death, and it was a pain he had never felt before, something new and terrible. Abyssal darkness surrounded him. His skin buzzed like static. The agony dug itself into his chest and laid there to sleep for the rest of his time. </p><p><i>Hurry</i>, Neil snapped at Death inside his head, angry that his pain brought joy to those around him. He wouldn’t die lonely and miserable. He’d die obstinate, with the little bit of dignity he had left. Fuck them. <i>End it already</i>.</p><p>When the ground began to shake, Neil closed his eyes, thinking it was a side effect of death. Already, the hurt was subsiding. He was ready.</p><p>Only, the sounds he heard were too human, too rooted in mortality for it to be over. There were inhales of shock around him, an array of mumbled confusion that made Neil open his eyes again.</p><p>He would’ve thought it was a hallucination brought on by dire pain, but the men around him scrambled back. They each gaped at the area above Neil’s chest.</p><p>At the push of the knife, his blood had flooded out and over his side, onto the drawn pentagram. He’d felt it beneath the shocking revelation that he was dying. He’d felt the stickiness pooling and falling around him. There’d been blood, and a lot of it.</p><p>Now they all stared, perturbed, as the blood trickled back up Neil’s sides and crawled over and under his clothes. The red droplets were being sucked back in through the wound. Neil felt every small bit moving, every rearrangement of his organs, and finally the skin as it flapped back onto itself and closed.</p><p>The tears in his eyes were more from pure disbelief than the looming pain, which was now only a reminscent throb in his chest.</p><p>Neil was not the only one feeling overwhelmed. Leonetti had tears streaming down his cheeks, though he didn’t make a sound. He was looking up at something with glistening eyes of hope and adoration. This was worship in its truest, rawest form. Neil slowly turned his head to follow Leonetti’s gaze.</p><p>The air was static, alive. </p><p>There was a man standing near the edge of the circle. Or something with the resemblance of a man. He wore a long black coat, fitted black pants, and polished black loafers. Beneath his coat was a black turtleneck sweater. If the moon weren’t so bright, Neil would think the man was a blotted ink stain, misplaced in the woods.</p><p>That, and the man’s eyes. They were glowing pure red. No black or white to be seen. With no pupil and no iris, Neil couldn’t tell who the man was looking at. Everything within his eye socket was just simply, shockingly, red.</p><p>Atop the man’s head sat two petite horns, short, not curved. They were red, too.</p><p>He had a drink in his hand. It was frozen and brown, chocolate sauce dripping inside. Above it sat a mountain of whipped cream, untouched.</p><p>The man stood there for a long moment as everyone stared, astonished. Relieved.</p><p>His head craned down at the floor where Neil laid.</p><p>There was no inflection in his tone, not a single hint of emotion, when he said, “You interrupted my coffee break.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. want/purpose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Are all demons so cryptic?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter is a little shorter than the first because they were both originally one chapter, but i decided to split it in two. hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every man surrounding Neil bent their heads to the higher being before them. Their respect was thick, rolling off them with their tension; however, it was their greed that was most obvious. Their needs and wants and wishes were melting from their bodies and stretching out eagerly. Neil expected them to grovel more in fear or awe, but they remained silent.</p>
<p>The man said nothing. Their discomfort became apparent. Neil was just grateful for this short moment of rest, whether he would die soon or not. And he couldn’t stop staring at the Inferno eyes, ablaze and apathetic. </p>
<p>Leonetti couldn’t sit still another second more. He bowed deeper. “Demon,” he said and seemed to tremble a bit, “I summoned you with The Prophecy of Power.”</p>
<p>“The what?”</p>
<p>The “demon’s” voice (though Neil wasn’t sure he believed he was staring at an actual creature from hell) was rough, rumbling through his throat with a combined authority and laziness. It was very strong and very flat at once. Neil didn’t know what to make of it, or anything.</p>
<p>“The sacrificial Prophecy,” Leonetti explained, then seemed to catch himself. “My Lord.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know anything about a prophecy, and you did not summon me.”</p>
<p>Leonetti straightened his back and sat up. “What?”</p>
<p>“I was called here by wrath.” The demon stared down at Neil. “It’s impolite to interrupt someone’s peaceful night.”</p>
<p>Neil couldn’t help narrowing his gaze. “I’ll think of that next time I’m being murdered.”</p>
<p>There was a shift in the air. Leonetti reached out and yanked Neil’s hair, pulling his head back toward the floor. “Shut up,” he hissed. “Know your place.”</p>
<p>“You will let go,” said the demon, and the voice snaked out with dripping poison. “That’s my Conjurer.”</p>
<p>Leonetti shook his head. “I conjured you. I made the sigil. I sacrificed the boy.”</p>
<p>With eyes that were completely red, it was almost impossible to tell what the demon was directly looking at. But as they watched, the demon’s eyes seemed to roam over Leonetti’s body with complete disinterest.</p>
<p>“You did nothing. Are you contradicting me?”</p>
<p>“No! But I -”</p>
<p>“Hey you,” said the demon, ignoring Leonetti’s argument. “Summoner. Is there a reason you called me, or can I leave?”</p>
<p>“I -” They were all looking at Neil now. Their eyes were wide, mostly confused. He saw jealousy there, too, a vile acid beginning to emerge on their faces.</p>
<p>This wasn’t what was meant to happen. His whole life, he’d thought he’d die because of a boneless legend. In Neil’s eyes, the prophecy came from nothing, just strange gossip spread between men seeking power and divinity. The world of criminals and violence was the perfect place for the occult to thrive. If there were any organization willing to kill for a higher being, it’d be the mafia.</p>
<p>And he understood how that connection had occurred. <i>Men latch to ideas of easy money</i>, he’d always thought. It was stupid, sure, but it wasn’t surprising that grown men would tangle themselves with this idea.</p>
<p>Except, now Neil was seeing that it was true. It had all been true. Which meant rumors of his ‘prophecy’ had possibly come from a place of honesty; everything he’d thought was bullshit was real, and there was a chance there were other men out there with this kind of power.</p>
<p>Men like Nathan Wesninski. </p>
<p>Neil shuddered. If his father had the help of a demon, running from him was pointless. Unless…</p>
<p>They all waited for him to speak. Neil examined the thing before him. The demon’s blonde hair was messy despite his proper appearance. He was short, his coat nearly engulfing him. The red in his eyes was insufferable. Neil stared at them for a long moment. The demon blinked.</p>
<p>“Well?” the demon asked.</p>
<p>Neil looked at the men around him. Five men who’d cornered him, who worked for his father, who’d dragged him here kicking and screaming then held him down while being brutally murdered. Five men who’d go back to tell his father what had happened here, or would continue to chase him. </p>
<p>There was no more room for mercy, and certainly no more room for terror. </p>
<p>Something must have settled in Neil’s features, because Leonetti said, “Wait, wait a minute, this isn’t -”</p>
<p>“Kill them,” said Neil.</p>
<p>The demon tilted his head to the side in a fluid motion. There was the simultaneous sound of bones cracking, five necks snapped in one smooth movement. The five men dropped at once, their necks all bent.</p>
<p>Neil, who’d been leaning back on his elbows, finally sat up. His head no longer hurt where he’d smacked it so many times. </p>
<p>“Are you real?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Do you hallucinate often?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Then why wouldn’t this be real?”</p>
<p>Neil touched his chest. “I had a concussion, I think. And I just died. This could be all in my head.”</p>
<p>“It could be.” The demon sipped his drink. He glanced down at it. “It’s all melted. You owe me a coffee.”</p>
<p>“That’s not coffee,” Neil said, absentmindedly.</p>
<p>“Yes it is.”</p>
<p>“It looks like pure sugar.”</p>
<p>“It’s mocha flavored.”</p>
<p>Neil shook his head. “Are they really dead?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Will you just leave their bodies here?”</p>
<p>The demon shrugged. He looked completely unconcerned. </p>
<p>“Can you get rid of them?” Neil asked. He didn’t need someone finding these bodies and his father getting suspicious.</p>
<p>“You ask a lot of questions.”</p>
<p>“Will you do it?”</p>
<p>The ground around Neil began to sink. Startled, he jumped up to his feet and backed away. Where the pentagram had been drawn and where the five men now lay, the soil shifted, taking their bodies down and beneath the scarce grass. The symbol disappeared with them. When their bodies were deep enough, the dirt rolled back over the same spot, flat and inconspicuous. </p>
<p>“Shit,” Neil breathed.</p>
<p>In the lasting silence, the leaves behind the demon rustled. Neil glanced down to see something shifting up, a pitch black shadow on the ground. A snake. It coiled up and around the demon’s ankle. A pink, forked tongue slithered out of its mouth.</p>
<p>The demon sighed. “You’re still unsatisfied. Is killing five men not enough for you?”</p>
<p>Neil’s brows wrinkled. “What?”</p>
<p>“We’re leaving,” the demon told him, and spun on his heel toward the park exit. When Neil didn’t follow, he turned back impatiently. “Let’s go. I’m not letting you waste anymore of my time.”</p>
<p>“I’m not going anywhere with you.”</p>
<p>“You will,” the demon said. “Your wrath called me, and I’m now tied to it until its settled.”</p>
<p>“So… what? What’re you saying?”</p>
<p>“Keep up, rabbit. I’m saying that I was called to fulfill a purpose, and that purpose has yet to be achieved. You want something, yes?”</p>
<p>Neil stared at him. He refused to nod his head, to admit how desperately he wanted something, but somehow the demon still knew the answer.</p>
<p>“The things your fury wants - vengeance, justice, whatever, I don’t really care - I can’t leave until the fury settles. So let’s settle it quickly.” </p>
<p>He kept walking, giving Neil no time to fully comprehend what he’d said or what it all meant. Neil bent to pick up his backpack, thrown aside in the action, and jogged to catch up. His heart pounded and he was unable to forget the insistent pain in his chest. The moon seemed less red now, less cruel. It guided them down the path. Neil tried to organize his thoughts.</p>
<p>“I’m Neil,” he said.</p>
<p>“No, you’re not.”</p>
<p>“Yes I am.”</p>
<p>The demon studied him with a flat expression. He blinked, and in that moment the red that had previously filled the space of his eyes turned to normal colors instead. The white of his eyes returned, along with a pupil and an iris of honey gold. </p>
<p>“Andromalius, Spirit of the Inferno.” His stride was languid, his tone informal despite the unfamiliar words. “But you’ll call me Andrew.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. devil's deal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A hell hole in the pit of the city.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Late as it was, there was no one inside the coffee shop. It was small and quaint, planted ferns against the rustic brick walls. There were unoccupied wooden tables and velvet armchairs.</p><p>The barista was lackluster, words tired. “How can I help you?”</p><p>The demon - Andrew, Neil reminded himself - ordered his choice of drink and the two waited on it without speaking. Neil felt stupid, hands wound tight around the straps of his backpack. He was not in his own body. There was no way he had just been stolen, sacrificed and killed by his father’s men. A demon had not been summoned to help him and end their lives in his stead.</p><p>And there was no way, none at all, that after those events, the demon had taken him here, a coffee shop in the middle of downtown Boston, where the scent of mocha and chocolate and planted peace lilies invaded his nose.</p><p>Andrew was given his sugary drink of death. Upon receiving it, he chugged down half. </p><p>They walked the streets in a continued, distant silence. Following behind them was a black serpent, though no passerby stopped to question the tiny creature.</p><p>Neil tried taking in the street signs and landmarks but was instead overtaken by an inability to concentrate. He let Andrew lead him because that was all he was capable of doing. It was only once the sea breeze spun down the streets and rustled Neil’s hair that he blinked and forced his gaze to concentrate: the waterfront was four, no, five blocks east; there was a pub nestled at the bottom of a corner building; barren trees and benches coated another street they passed.</p><p>“Your shoes won’t carry you much further.”</p><p>“What?” Neil asked, startled.</p><p>“You’re going to run, but those shoes won’t last another hour.” Andrew pointed to accompany his statement. Neil looked down. His sneakers weren’t that bad. Sure, the soles were worn and soon there’d be a hole where his pinky toe was, but they would last much longer than an hour. Neil knew because he’d had worst.</p><p>“So what if I run? Are you going to stop me?”</p><p>Andrew took a sip from his straw. “No.”</p><p>“Then why does it matter?”</p><p>“As much as I don’t need another child to babysit, it will matter because you’ll come back every time.”</p><p>“I don’t want anything from you.”</p><p>“Are you always so dramatic?”</p><p>Neil’s frown deepened. “No.”</p><p>“You’re not very convincing.”</p><p>“And you’re not very demonic. Those men were bowing to you. Like you were Satan himself. You’re drinking a frappuccino, for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>Andrew took another obnoxious sip. “Demons can’t enjoy the simple pleasures of life?”</p><p>“No,” snapped Neil. And then, “So you <i>are</i> a demon, then?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Did the sigil call you? Or was it -”</p><p>Andrew yawned very loudly. “As much as your sordid attempt at conversation provides a very basic level of entertainment, somehow you have still managed to be boring.”</p><p>“You’re a dick.”</p><p>“I am a man from Hell.”</p><p>“That’s no excuse. Am I not allowed a few minutes of confusion and questions?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Fine.” Neil crossed his arms. “Where are we going?”</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>Neil looked around. They’d come a little closer to the waterfront, the breeze heavier and saltier. Lights from the harbor and streets were a dim, sleepy orange. Farther down, right beside the wharf, was a series of shorter buildings, architecture marked by their history. Right in front of them, however, was another skyscraper. </p><p>The building, though tall as the rest of the Boston skyline, only had a few scattered lights shining through the many windows. At the entrance, a small set of steps led to a revolving door made of dark glass so that they could see nothing inside. A man stood outside in a round, black hat. The man wore white gloves and had his hands politely crossed in front of him. Above the door was a black awning. Scarlet letters were stitched into the vinyl: <i>The Tenth Circle</i>. </p><p>Without a word, Andrew walked up the steps and into the doorway, disappearing away with the turn of the glass.</p><p>Neil stood there on the sidewalk. He was alone, the night air cold. This was his chance. His father’s men were dead. It would be days, maybe a week before more were sent out to find the elusive Wesninski son. He could make it to Canada if he went right now. If he was lucky, he’d never have a run in with his father’s people again. No Lola, no Romero. He could spend his life in a secluded town, blissfully ignorant and dead to all who’d known him.</p><p>He faced away from the building and took a deep breath. He thought back to the pentagram on the cold ground, his arm bleeding into it. There’d been a desperate, wild hunger in him in those last moments, something charged that now rested in his veins. His chest tightened. Never had he felt so animalistic and brutal. </p><p>Ending their lives had been liberating. </p><p>Neil turned around and walked through the revolving doorway. Andrew was waiting on the other side, drink now empty. He discarded it in a pristine silver bin.</p><p>The lobby was small, concise. No one else occupied the space. The walls were black, lined with golden panels. There were delicate, floral designs along the baseboard, reminiscent of royalty. Across from the entrance was the only other thing in the room: an elevator with the same swirling gold along its door casting. The doors were black to match the walls. The rest of the room was desolate.</p><p>Andrew pressed the ‘up’ button and the doors chimed open. Inside, there were no numbered options. The elevator moved smoothly, and Neil tried not to think about how he was trapped in a very small box with a demon.</p><p>Andrew gave no explanation when they came to a stop at an unmarked floor. The doors chimed once more and opened to reveal an apartment. </p><p>Neil said, “What -” and was cut off by a high pitched hissing that impossibly turned to meowing a second later. The snake that had been following them was no longer there. Neil looked down to see a mess of black fur pouncing out from behind Andrew’s legs. The cat stretched its back before it walked lazily into the apartment and disappeared around a corner.</p><p>“What?” Neil repeated.</p><p>“That’s my snake,” Andrew said.</p><p>“But it was a cat.”</p><p>“Isn’t that what I said?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Andrew shrugged and flicked on a switch beside the elevator doors. Bluish-white bulbs came to life, casting an easy light throughout the apartment. There was a section to the left where he could see a kitchen, and a hallway to the right. Directly in front of them was the living room, a black sofa and matching black rug in the center. There was a jar of cookies on the coffee table beside a stack of books and a forgotten teacup. The wall of the living room was made entirely of windows, the twinkling lights of Boston shining through the glass.</p><p>Unconcerned with Neil’s presence, Andrew disappeared into the kitchen. Neil took the time to explore, eyeing an oil painting of pomegranates and vines on one wall. He spotted a shelf of miscellaneous items, more books and strange objects he could not name. Candles and house plants, coffee mugs and a lonely tangerine. A tooth in a jar. A figurine of a moth.</p><p>“Do you live here?” Neil asked incredulously.</p><p>There was no answer. He turned back and found a bar with three stools looking into the kitchen. He took a seat and watched Andrew, who’d taken out a pint of ice cream and was eating it with a spoon.</p><p>When they were out in the streets, Andrew’s horns had disappeared from sight. Now they were back, red and sharp.</p><p>“So,” Andrew said, “what do you want?”</p><p>“You’re not going to answer my questions?”</p><p>“Get to a conclusion on your own.”</p><p>“What’s <i>The Tenth Circle</i>?”</p><p>Andrew ate another scoop and stared Neil down. “If you won’t tell me what you want, I’ll go to bed, and you can suffer out here with all your insatiable curiosity.”</p><p>“I have to verbally explain to you what I want? Can’t you just…” Neil gestured toward his head. “See for yourself?”</p><p>“What am I, a mind reader?”</p><p>“You knew my real name.”</p><p>“I’m required to know the names of all who summon me.”</p><p>“But you don’t know their desires? What’s the point of wisdom if you can’t access it?”</p><p>“You’re stalling.”</p><p>Neil swung his feet, toes bumping into the wall beneath him. These chairs were too tall. “Do you smoke?”</p><p>Without pause, Andrew put away the ice cream, tossed the spoon to the sink, and went to the wall of giant windows. He unlatched the lock on one and shoved the entire panel open. Cold, brisk air rushed in. Andrew pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. He lit his own, coaxing it to life with a single breath, and held out the pack for Neil to take one. Neil shook his head. The familiar scent was already drifting toward him, filling him with equal parts dread and warmth. The smoke from Andrew’s cigarette was enough to steady his thoughts.</p><p>The problem was, Neil didn’t know how to verbalize what he needed. </p><p>Living a life as a runaway, Neil had come to realize that he no longer made his own decisions; he hadn’t had the benefit of doing so for a long time. Neil only ever reacted to what was happening around him and moved on from there. Rarely did he do something without first being prompted, because it was the decisions of others that told him what he had to do.</p><p>Now there was magic dancing in his palm, ready to be aimed.</p><p>He thought maybe he shouldn’t have access to this kind of power. It was dangerous.</p><p>The city twinkled before him. Neil looked at this horned man and decided if this was the last weapon gifted to him, he’d use it well.</p><p>“I want my father dead.”</p><p>“Then it will be so.”</p><p>Andrew said no more than that, and they lapsed into a peaceful quiet. The cold air on his skin reminded him of death, twined together with that heavy tobacco smell. Eventually, Neil gave his attention to the scratchy dryness of his throat. Now that he had a calm minute to himself, he realized he was likely dehydrated from the past week of rationing what he had.</p><p>“Can I have some water?” </p><p>Andrew smoked the rest of what he had, flicked the butt out the window, and turned back to the kitchen. While Neil waited, he sat gingerly on the soft, fluffy, cloudlike cushions of the couch. He sighed, and without thinking, his eyes closed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The blaring sun woke him, skin hot from where his arm laid in the direct rays. Neil opened his palm and blinked at the gold of dawn. A glass of water was waiting on the coffee table for him, and before he could fully awaken, he was chugging it down, drops spilling down his chin from his jerking movements.</p><p>“Woah, take it easy there or you’ll choke.”</p><p>Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Neil’s reflexes worked before he could process what was happening. His hand snapped forward and the last bit of water from his cup landed on the intruder.</p><p>Neil gaped. The man sitting on the coffee table had dark brown skin to match his dark brown hair. Horns emerged from his head of curls: like those of a ram, thick and off-white, curving in the beginnings of a spiral. He was blinking rapidly behind a pair of red-tinted sunglasses, a look of shock on his face while droplets cruised down his eyelashes and cheeks. The water had soaked into the top of his shirt, too.</p><p>“Uh.”</p><p>“Hi, Neil,” the intruder said, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”</p><p>“Were you watching me sleep?”</p><p>“I… yes?”</p><p>“Why? Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m Nicky, Andrew’s cousin.”</p><p>“Demons can’t have cousins,” Neil said.</p><p>“Can’t they?” Nicky asked, as if to say, <i>What would you know?</i> “You’re kind of adorable. How’d you manage to summon Andrew?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>“Just that Andrew doesn’t always answer to those who call him. I would’ve come right away if I’d known someone like you was conjuring up demons.”</p><p><i>Someone like you</i>. Neil narrowed his eyes. “I think maybe I should leave.” He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on a stranger’s couch, a demon’s no less. The muscles in his neck were stiff and he felt tired despite an uninterrupted sleep. Clearly, he’d been more exhausted than he’d realized.</p><p>“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here. Andrew suggested I escort you out.”</p><p>Neil was already standing, readjusting his backpack over his shoulders. He’d slept with it on and his body felt the consequences. “I think I can find my way out on my own.”</p><p>“Um, you see, this place isn’t exactly for humans-”</p><p>As the Ram Demon spoke, Neil went to the elevator doors and pressed the button to go down. The doors chimed open in an instant, revealing the dark interior. He glared at the inside, remembering too late that there were no buttons on the machine.</p><p>“How do I get down?”</p><p>“Like I was saying, it’s not for humans.” Nicky stepped over the threshold and the elevator began its descent. “Relax, Neil. I’m only trying to help.”</p><p>Neil stared at the golden doors in resolute silence. He couldn’t concern himself with feeling guilty over his prickly attitude. Many times he had to pass judgement on others, then move on with his day. Whoever this Nicky was, Neil didn’t want to buddy up to him. He especially didn’t like waking up with strangers in the room, demon or not. It had unnerved him.</p><p>Nicky was watching him. “Don’t you want to know where Andrew is?” Neil shrugged, and the demon answered the lingering question without any input from Neil. “He’s fulfilling what you’ve asked of him. He’ll find you when it’s over. It shouldn’t take long - we work fast.”</p><p>That got Neil’s attention. “He’s already set out to do it? What I asked him to?”</p><p>“Yeah, Andrew’s really not one to waste time. He’s never been into elongated exploitation of a human’s weaknesses. He thinks it’s annoying that he has to settle a human’s goals in order to regain his own freedom. Me? I’ll admit, I like pushing just a little far, playing around a bit. Eternity gets boring without a few games.”</p><p>“What do you mean by freedom?”</p><p>“Oh,” Nicky said. This close, Neil noticed the pointed edges of Nicky’s toothy grin. A smile like candy, all sugar and immaturity. “Those like Andrew and I get called by humans. We name them Summoners, or Conjurors. They summon us through different means. It always ranges between us. I have a special little chant I love. Mostly witches have found it in human books, though occasionally someone with no knowledge of the occult finds it in a library or an old book store. I get quite the thrill when they repeat the words. Get it just right and lay out some plums, and I’ll come running to answer your deepest desires.</p><p>“Unfortunately,” Nicky continued, “If I follow the call of a human, I therefore agree to provide what they yearn for. Until I can give a satisfactory resolution, that human is tied to me.”</p><p>“It’s like a fucking cult of genies,” Neil mumbled. Then, louder, “Tied in what way?”</p><p>“Hmm. Think of it as a contract. When I answer to a Summoner, I’ll be unable to cut myself from their wish unless I complete it. Human’s can chant to me, sacrifice for me, create sigils in my honor, but I won’t be able to go to them until I’m free of my current Summoner. Do you understand?”</p><p>“I guess.” The elevator doors opened in the lobby. Neil, recognizing this as an opportunity, quickly shuffled through any other questions he may have. Nicky was clearly transparent and blunt, happy to give any information Neil requested. “What is this place, by the way?”</p><p>“The Tenth Circle?” Nicky grinned. “I’d say it’s a haven for us. A hell hole in the pit of the city. Want a tour?”</p><p>Neil shook his head. The glint in Nicky’s eye was enough to warn him. Whatever was in this building was probably best ignored. </p><p>Outside, Boston was loud and noisy. People walked leisurely on the sidewalks, tourists with coffees in their hands and cameras raised. The doorman was standing beside the entrance like he had been the day before, gloved hands folded in front of him. The sky was baby blue, no clouds in sight.</p><p>Neil hesitated by the front steps. “Can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Nothing has stopped you so far.”</p><p>“Why are you telling me all this? Shouldn’t this kind of information be kept private?”</p><p>“Oh, it’s fine. You won’t remember any of this in a day or two.” Nicky must have seen the surprise on Neil’s face, because he laughed loudly. “Don’t worry, Neil. It’s precautionary. Andrew will do what he promised, your desires will be fulfilled, you’ll forget all about monsters and beasts from hell, and then you’ll happily go on with your life.” He clamped Neil on the shoulder. “Be glad, Neil. You’ll get everything you’ve ever wanted.”</p><p><i>Everything you’ve ever wanted</i>. Neil shivered.</p><p>“Right. Well, it was nice to meet you.”</p><p>Nicky smiled. “It was! And even if you don’t remember me, I’ll remember you.”</p><p>“Great, well, bye.”</p><p>Nicky waved at him as Neil descended down the street, weaving himself in and out of crowds. It was habitual, something he always did to lose a trail. Unlike last night, when all he wanted was the empty quiet of the city, now he was desperate to be swept away. Families and children and university students brushed by him. Their chatter filled his ears. Their laughs.</p><p>Though relieved as he was to be back out under an open sky, Neil regretted not making more use of that apartment. He hadn’t eaten in more than a day, and he’d barely had more than that single glass of water. His stomach aggressively growled at him just as he passed a small cluster of food trucks. One, painted yellow and green, smelled particularly good.</p><p><i>This is weird</i>, Neil thought as he leisurely bought himself two full entrees of chicken and rice and tacos. He took his food to a nearby table, sat down at the edge of it, and ate.</p><p>It had been seven years since he’d run from home. Seven years since his mom woke him up in the middle of the night, pressed her hand to his cheek, and whispered, “Do you want to live?” Terrified, Neil had nodded. Yes, he wanted to live. It would be wrong to answer any other way.</p><p>That nod was all his mother needed. She’d already packed him a bag, she said. They were to leave now. </p><p>And they did. They slipped out of the house on a night Nathan Wesninski was not home, and spent the next three years running together, surviving, taking care of one another.</p><p>When he was sixteen, she died.</p><p>Neil was alive at twenty because he didn’t do things like this. His mother had taught him the right way to disappear. No eating in public, keep your real features hidden, stay away during the day. Hats were good. Hoodies. Occasionally, sunglasses. Never talk to anyone unless it was necessary. No hotels, always squat or take advantage of a car.</p><p>Yet. Here he was. Out beneath the bright sun. Eating a whole meal on a bench in a busy city.</p><p>Because he’d made a deal with a devil.</p><p>A tug of anticipation pulled on Neil’s spine. </p><p>He did not care that he would lose his memory of the last two days. He didn’t care that demons were real, that his father was right. He didn’t even care that those men had tried to kill him for power, or that they so vehemently believed in the prophecy.</p><p>Maybe it was being blind to the consequences, and all the other things that could go wrong in his life. There would be Lola, probably. His father’s other men. People who would still believe in the prophecy and chase him for years to come.</p><p>Except Neil would be ready. Because there was nothing else in this world Neil was scared of besides his own father.</p><p>Once The Butcher of Baltimore was dead, Neil would be indestructible.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. obstacle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An unexpected problem arises.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With a backpack full of packaged food and water, Neil went back to his squat house.</p><p>The knowledge that his father would meet his end soon kept him relaxed, not stupid. There were plenty of motels and shelters in Boston, but Neil wouldn’t dare go to either. That was always where his father’s people checked first. Neil had learned the hard way once, months after his mother had died and he’d been craving a hot shower and a warm plate of food.</p><p>Showers and home cooked meals weren’t as important as being hidden, though, so he promised himself he would only ever reside in abandoned homes as inconspicuously as he could.</p><p>The house he’d broken into a week ago was the best option. Despite being in the suburbs, the neighborhood had multiple ‘for sale’ signs up, and more than half of the street was deserted. The sliding glass back door had a wiggly lock, easy enough to jiggle open. And the best part was the attic with two points of entry. One at the back of the house in the master closet, the other in the garage. </p><p>Hoodie drawn up, Neil cut through the trees behind the house from the street on the other side, falling right into the backyard. He unhinged the lock and made his way inside.</p><p>Before he went to the attic, he took a large bottle of water and a dish towel from his pack, along with a travel-sized toothbrush and toothpaste. Mindlessly, Neil cleaned himself with minimal effort. He used water only, unwilling to leave behind traces of soap. After spitting the toothpaste into the kitchen sink, he used the rest of the water from the bottle to rinse it down.</p><p>He got dressed, made sure there was nothing left behind, and went up the steps to the attic with a lit flashlight. It was as he’d left it. Clean, tidy, and covered in rustic nails. Neil avoided them and went to the darkest corner, ignoring the urge to shudder. As eerie as it was up here, it was the one place that would conceal his face from view if the latch were to open.</p><p>It had been a good day. </p><p><i>Tomorrow</i>, Neil told himself. <i>Tomorrow he’d have no father.</i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>There was no sound. No light. No movement.</p><p>Neil was woken by a feeling, a heavy dose of consciousness pouring into him. Something was not right. He’d always had reliable instincts, and now they were pulsing roughly along his skin.</p><p>What was usually a pitch black attic was suddenly red. </p><p>Two rich, illuminated eyes of scarlet stared down at him from above. </p><p>“What the fuck?”</p><p>The demon grabbed Neil by the collar of his jacket and yanked him up, slamming him into the rough, wood-panelled wall. A jagged nail ripped into the material at his upper arm.</p><p>“Who are you?” Andrew asked.</p><p>Frustrated anger bubbled inside Neil. This was the second time in two days that a demon had gotten close to Neil while he slept. Neil was usually a light sleeper, but demons seemed to be light-footed creatures. </p><p>Neil grabbed his wrists. “Get <i>off</i> me!”</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Neil growled. “You know who I am, you said so yourself!”</p><p>“I don’t mean your real name, Nathaniel.” It took Neil all his willpower to hold back a flinch at the sound of his birth name. He didn’t want to give Andrew the satisfaction. Fuck him. “Who are you really? Why did you call me?”</p><p>Neil gripped Andrew’s wrists tighter, trying to pull him off to no avail. “I didn’t mean to call you. I didn’t even believe in this bullshit until you came to me.”</p><p>Andrew stared at him for a long moment before shoving him into the wall and letting him go. “Your father is a human, correct?”</p><p>“What? Of course he is.”</p><p>“I can’t find him.”</p><p>Neil couldn’t keep up. He tried to see Andrew’s expression, but all he saw were those glowing eyes, like small pools of electric blood. </p><p>“I… don’t understand.”</p><p>“I can find anyone I want,” Andrew said, “but I can’t find your father.”</p><p>“How is that my problem?”</p><p>There was a pause as Andrew thought. Neil’s anger swam alongside his confusion. The air in the attic was heavy. It hit Neil that maybe he should be scared. This was a demonic creature he knew nothing about. Yet, the only thing that made him apprehensive was the idea that his father couldn’t be found by something otherworldly. </p><p>Andrew still hadn’t answered, so Neil scrunched his eyebrows and asked, “Is he already dead?”</p><p>“No. I would know if he was. He’s very much alive.”</p><p>Neil couldn’t help it - he shivered. That meant his father was out there, possibly hunting him down, with the ability to hide from demons themselves.</p><p>He remembered that he’d eaten out in public today without covering his face, and momentarily felt sick. How stupid could he be? Anyone could have seen him. He had to leave the city immediately.</p><p>Andrew watched Neil as he bent to grab his backpack and throw it over his shoulders.</p><p>“I have to leave,” Neil said, matter-of-fact. Panicking at news of his father was not the way to win against him. Neil ran from his father as a living. It had practically become a job. He would simply postpone his worrisome thoughts for another day, and for now focus on the matter at hand.</p><p>Before Neil could take a step, Andrew reached out to grab his arm.</p><p>“No, Rabbit. You’re coming with me.”</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Neil started, but was already being dragged to the open passageway of the attic. “Let me go!” Neil shoved Andrew, hard, and made a break for the ladder. He went down the top step, then the next, then jumped down all the way to the carpeted floor. His legs groaned in protest as he pushed himself upright and made his way to the back door of the house. He pulled on the sliding door so hard that the jiggly lock popped right open, broken from the force. The moon greeted him outside, the silhouette of the trees welcoming.</p><p>Halfway across the backyard, Neil realized Andrew was in front of the woods, his eyes bright against the treeline.</p><p>Neil’s body came to a painful stop. His patience was thin as a twig.</p><p>“I’m tied to you now,” Andrew said. “I’ll always know where you run.”</p><p>Neil grit his teeth. “Let me through.”</p><p>Andrew ignored him. “I only have two options to regain my freedom. I either fulfil what’s been asked of me by killing your father, or I end the contract.”</p><p>“So end the contract,” Neil spit out.</p><p>“The contract is your life.” A pause. “Would you like me to end it?”</p><p>Neil thought of his mother: <i>Do you want to live?</i></p><p>The answer was always going to be yes. Neil had never once thought about letting himself be killed by another. If it came down to it, he’d rather take his own life, just to prevent his father from having that sliver of joy.</p><p>“So… what? I come with you and you kill me anyway?”</p><p>“I wasn’t planning on it, but you’re making me want to try.” Andrew didn’t let him say anything in response, even though a reply was already forming in Neil’s mouth. “This is not an ultimatum. You are suspicious, your family is suspicious, and I will not be tied to you for an eternity.”</p><p>“Why don’t you kill me then?” It wasn’t that Neil was trying to push Andrew too far by asking the questions that might get him hurt. He just had to know what he was getting himself into. If he doubted that Andrew would let him live, he wouldn’t come willingly. </p><p>“You know something I should know.”</p><p>That was all Andrew gave him. Neil weighed it in his head. Andrew thought there was some larger conspiracy at play, a secret only Neil had. Neil didn’t have what he was looking for, but information was a currency unlike money. If Andrew wanted to know something, Neil would tell him all he knew if it meant he’d live.</p><p>He had to be smart about it. He couldn’t outrun a demon, especially one that he was now bound to.</p><p>Neil said, “If I come with you, you can’t hurt me.”</p><p>Andrew blinked at him.</p><p>“Fine,” Neil continued, “but if you take me by force, I’ll kick and scream and be as annoying as I can be. Which is very, very annoying, and very, very loud.”</p><p>Not even a twitch of emotion crossed Andrew’s features. “Are you always so dramatic?”</p><p>“It’s not dramatic, it’s survival.”</p><p>“You think what you want. Let’s go.” He began walking past Neil, toward the street in front of the house.</p><p>Neil stubbornly did not move. “You didn’t agree.”</p><p>“If I didn’t say anything about your conditions, then I agreed.” </p><p>Andrew kept walking, either impatient or apathetic about Neil’s internal struggle. Neil watched his back, clad in black. A short stature, maybe even shorter than Neil. A lazy gait, like nothing in the world mattered. He didn’t look like a demon at all.</p><p>Neil sighed heavily through his nose and followed.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Tenth Circle was as cold inside as it was outside in Boston. Neil suppressed a shiver. How he’d gotten through winter without proper heating was beyond him. At least it was beginning to warm in preparation for spring.</p><p>As Andrew led him back up the same way they’d been before, Neil held onto the hope that there’d be somewhere for him to sleep. Preferably inside a room with a door and a working lock. He’d even take the bathroom at this point. He had the suspicion he’d only slept an hour in the squat house, maybe less. His body was ready to drop dead, but at the same time he felt wired and weary. If Andrew planned to push and prod at him for answers tonight, he’d be disappointed. Neil’s eyelids were heavy as dumbells.</p><p>Any hopes of an uneventful night crashed when the elevator opened into the apartment.</p><p>Nicky was there, legs crossed, arm slung over the back of the couch as he spoke. The edges of him were a little blurred, sketchy, but the second Neil’s eyes fell on him, those edges sharpened.</p><p>There was another man on the couch listening attentively to Nicky. He was a large man, muscular and towering. Tattoos covered his knuckles and the parts of his arms that were visible, black patterns and shapes with intricate detail. Neil could tell he was tall even though he was sitting. The horns on his head were skinny and of medium height. They went straight up, then slightly curved forward.</p><p>Neil could see his father, standing above him with a knife and a reptilian smile on his face.</p><p>“Hey!” The shout broke the memory. Nicky was looking at him now with a grin. “It’s the man of the hour.”</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>“He’s real talkative,” Nicky said to the man sitting beside him, friendly sarcasm tangled throughout. The man stood up. Neil clenched his fists and held himself back at a reasonable distance. “Neil, this is David Wymack.”</p><p>“Wymack is fine,” the man said. “Neil, I understand you and Andrew have a slight issue?”</p><p>The words fell from Neil without thought. “I don’t have an issue.”</p><p>“Considering you’re a human here in my tower for the second time, I’d consider there to be a problem. Wouldn’t you, Andrew?”</p><p>Andrew was only looking at his cousin, who was purposefully looking anywhere else.</p><p>“Nicky. Did I or did I not tell you to keep this business private?”</p><p>“Ugh, don’t be like that, Andrew. Wymack already knew. He said there was something weird about your human.”</p><p>Neil’s frowned. “Weird how?”</p><p>Wymack’s gaze was studious, inquisitive. Dissecting Neil in a way that already felt too kind and too invasive at once. “I guess we’ll find out.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. sigil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil meets a demon couple.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nicky made tea. The visible guilt on his face said that he was trying to make up for whatever mistake he’d made. Andrew paid him absolutely no attention. Neil cautiously accepted his cup, basking in the heat radiating into his cold palms. The tea was good. There were hints of honey and lemon, and it warmed him on its way down. </p><p>Wymack sipped his own. The cup looked massive in his hands.</p><p>“Okay, Neil. Let’s start with what you asked Andrew to do.”</p><p>“Isn’t that private?”</p><p>“These are special circumstances.”</p><p>To Neil, it felt like they all already knew what he’d asked for, and he was reluctant to repeat it. This wasn’t an interrogation; he didn’t need to answer questions they already knew.</p><p>Andrew rolled his eyes and answered for him. “It was to kill Nathan Wesninski.”</p><p>“And you can’t find him?” </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“He’s in Baltimore,” Neil supplied.</p><p>Andrew shook his head. “I know where he lives. I’ve been there. Not a single scent lingers.”</p><p>“So he moved?” Nathan would never move. His home in Baltimore was a statement of his empire. It was a massive home with a basement perfect for killing and a small horde of workers waiting to clean his messes. How his father managed to avoid so many search warrants, he didn’t know. He had people in the force, probably. Corruption was a contagious disease that followed the Wesninski family everywhere.</p><p>Andrew shook his head. “Everything he owned was still there. Clothes, suits, his sheets. But even in his bedroom, there was no scent. There were no traces of him ever living there.”</p><p>His father had lived there for more than 20 years. It was impossible that Nathan’s smell wasn’t engraved into the walls by now.</p><p>“Strange,” Wymack said. “Even if he was away for months, years, you’d still be able to pick something up.” He looked to Neil. “And you’re claiming not to know why your father is hard to track?”</p><p>“I -” Neil cut himself off and bit his lip.</p><p>There was no denying that Neil had a strange childhood. He’d seen his father slaughter a man at the age of six. Blood had become a permanent factor in his life, as did knives and guns and men with gloves on their hands. The sting of a hot iron on his shoulder still pulsed now and then, a reminder of his father’s cruelty that never faded.</p><p>There were no good times, but Neil never pitied himself for it. It was his life, and so he accustomed himself to normalize it all. The murders became a passing thought.</p><p>The Butcher’s child, made to be something great.</p><p>While Nathan’s mafia dealings sat at the forefront of his business, there was always more to it. An obsessive, hidden prayer to the unholy.</p><p>Something Neil had not believed until two days ago.</p><p>His father worshipped a dark energy. It made killing that much more fun for him, because it was physically and spiritually powerful. Nathan Wesninski always seemed cocky to Neil as he flaunted around that unstoppable facade, but now Neil wondered where that confidence had been bred from.</p><p>“My father is… into the occult.” He coughed. “I guess.”</p><p>He’d never admitted that aloud. It sounded crazy to him, but none of the demons before him reacted with anything but interest. Maybe it meant nothing, just a man’s childish hobby. </p><p>Wymack rubbed his chin. “Okay. And how do you know?”</p><p>“I’d eavesdrop, spy on him. He drew reversed pentagrams in the basement sometimes.”</p><p>Nicky sat up straighter. “He made sigils?”</p><p>“Do you think he was into magic?” Wymack asked. “Or do you think he was trying to summon something?”</p><p>“I don’t know, honestly. But he’d use blood to draw the pentagrams, if that helps.”</p><p>“Whose blood?”</p><p>Neil frowned. He didn’t want to drudge that up. “Is it important?”</p><p>“For now it’s not,” Wymack said. “Do you think you could replicate the design of what he drew?”</p><p>“Not really. I only saw it a few times from odd angles.” From the top of the basement stairs, his hand over his mouth in silence gasps, his whole body shuddering.</p><p>“Could you try?”</p><p>Neil shrugged. “Sure.”</p><p>“Nicky, get Matt. Tell him we need a sketch.”</p><p>“Got it.” Nicky got up and disappeared into the elevator.</p><p>Neil watched as Wymack finished his cup of tea, staring down into the cup when he finished. He was deep in thought, an air of tension on his large shoulders. From this angle, Neil could see his horns better. They were white and animalistic. Where they were angled forward, the tips were visibly sharp. </p><p>He didn’t understand why the others were so tense. For him, the concealment of his father’s location was a very real threat. Nathan could be close to his son. For all they knew, he could be in Boston with Neil, watching him with those bloodlust eyes. It was a threat that affected Neil more than anyone else.</p><p>Neil had to know. “Why are you taking this so seriously? I know why Andrew wants to find my father, but why do you?”</p><p>Wymack looked up from his empty teacup. “We help each other in The Tenth Circle.” His tattooed thumb rubbed the edge of the cup. “And we take heavy precautions here. Even demons have enemies, Neil. It’s good to stay sharp.”</p><p>“I thought God was your only enemy,” Neil said.</p><p>There was a <i>cling!</i> as Wymack set his cup on the table. He laughed, a short chuckle that seemed to be mocking himself. “You’d be surprised.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nicky came back to tell them Matt was out on a job, and would be back in the morning. Neil sighed a breath of relief without meaning to. His eyes were closing despite the situation he was in, and he liked to be well rested. Energy while running for your life was a necessity.</p><p>To his surprise, while the apartment had an open, expansive living room, there was only one bedroom. There was a giant bed nestled low to the ground with black sheets, a nightstand, and a dresser. There were two other doors, for what he assumed was a closet and bathroom. The entire room looked untouched.</p><p>“I don’t think I should…” Neil started.</p><p>Nicky, who’d taken him to the bedroom, shook his head. “Andrew doesn’t come in here. Demons don’t need sleep.” They shuffled into the room. “I mean, just because we don’t need it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take it. I love to sleep, or at least cuddle into a warm comforter. I may be a demon, but it’s nice to just relax, you know? Andrew refuses, though. Buzz kill, that one.”</p><p>Neil didn’t reply, so Nicky showed him the rest of the room and left. </p><p>In the morning, after an uninterrupted sleep, Neil scolded himself for how deep he’d slept, no dreams or late night restlessness. He hesitated outside the shower for minutes, unwilling to be vulnerable in this unfamiliar house, but in the end he succumbed to the hot water.</p><p>A half hour later, he came out of the bedroom with his backpack on his back. He’d slept with it in his arms and refused to leave it unsupervised.</p><p>Nicky was waiting for him in the living room.</p><p>“Morning, Neil. Ready?”</p><p>“Where are we going?”</p><p>“Down two floors. Andrew said he didn’t want any more guests.”</p><p>Neil’s brows rose but otherwise he said nothing. When they got in the elevator, Neil thought of a question he’d asked before, but had never gotten a legitimate answer to. Alone with Nicky, he felt it’d be easier to push for an answer.</p><p>“Nicky,” he said, “What is The Tenth Circle? I know you called it a ‘haven,’ but what’s the building here for?”</p><p>Nicky took out a lollipop from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. “Wymack put it here a long time ago. He made it for demons who wanted to live on earth.”</p><p>“Are there a lot more demons here than just you few?”</p><p>“Not that much more. There’s about ten of us.”</p><p>The elevator chimed open. Nicky lifted his arms as if to introduce this new apartment. “Off you go.”</p><p>“What? By myself?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, no worries. It’s fine. Matt’s probably the nicest guy in the building.”</p><p>Neil stepped out and the doors immediately closed behind him. The layout was the same as Andrew’s apartment, except the decoration was homey and full, like someone actually lived there. There were papers and knick knacks everywhere. The windows had curtains with a warm olive green tone, open just wide enough to let in a sliver of sunlight. The place smelt like breakfast food, bacon and eggs and toast. There was music playing from inside the kitchen, the volume low. </p><p>“Hello?” he called out.</p><p>“Oh!” The music stopped abruptly, and a head poked out from the kitchen. Tall but much less intimidating than Wymack, this demon had messy brown hair and a striking smile. It wasn’t like Nicky’s (all-knowing, easy) or Wymack’s (stern, welcoming). It looked genuine. Friendly and wide. His horns were black, shaped in a thick half circle above his head, both sides almost meeting at the top.</p><p>There was no time to process as another figure appeared behind him. She was much shorter than the man beside her, with defined brown curls atop her head. She wore an oversized sweater that fell to her knees, which was a weird combination with her glowing red eyes. Her horns were a half circle, too, only hers were much thinner and red. They matched, as if they fit together as one.</p><p>“Hey,” she said. “I’m Dan, and this is Matt.”</p><p>Matt stepped forward and offered a hand. “Hey, man.”</p><p>Neil stared at the outstretched hand for a moment too long and grabbed it. Matt shook it with vigor.</p><p>“Wait, why’re you making a face like this is weird? Humans do this when they meet, right? Have I been doing this the wrong way all this time? Shit, that’s embarrassing.”</p><p>“Oh, no. Sorry.” Neil hadn’t realized he was making a face. He quickly fixed his expression. “Your handshake was… great.”</p><p>Matt’s returning smile was vibrant. He turned to Dan. “See, babe? Practice makes a difference.”</p><p>“I promise you, there is no way you can mess up a handshake.”</p><p>“You can squeeze too hard, or shake for too long.” Matt looked back to Neil. “We were just making breakfast, if you’d like some.”</p><p>His knee-jerk response was to decline, but he knew he needed the food. It was all too fragile, a wealthy fortune in a shaky hand. Sleeping in a bed, taking a hot shower, eating a home cooked meal - Neil had to savor it all before these things were inevitably ripped from him once more.</p><p>He sat at a table outside the kitchen as they finished up, listening to the scrape of spatulas and pans. Neil tuned them out while they chatted. It wasn’t long before Matt came around the corner with two plates, and then Dan with her own. The wafting smell made Neil salivate.</p><p>Despite how starved he felt, Neil remembered his table manners, hammered into his skin by his father. He ate one bite at a time.</p><p>It was delicious. He told Matt so.</p><p>“Really?” Matt asked, straightening his back in excitement.</p><p>Dan laughed. “I <i>told</i> you!”</p><p>“You know it’s better to have a human’s opinion about it.”</p><p>“He’s been learning to cook on his own,” Dan told Neil. Admiration and love dripped from her voice, slow as candle wax. “We started trying together a few months ago. Honestly, it’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”</p><p>Matt nodded. “And now we can cook for people like you, Neil. Not that we’ll have many other guests, but, well.”</p><p>The bacon on Neil’s plate was already gone. He was silently eating the rest, trying to remember what exactly he was doing here. Wasn’t this odd for them? They didn’t even know Neil, yet they’d sat him at their dining table and fed him. They spoke like there was nothing different about them, just a young couple welcoming a neighbor. Neil was a stranger to them, yet they adapted him into the conversation with flexible ease.</p><p>They migrated to the couch once they’d finished. Dan disappeared down the hall, leaving Neil alone with Matt.</p><p>“Wymack told me I’m sketching something for you?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Neil explained the situation as simply as he could and made sure to stress how little he actually remembered about the symbols his father drew.</p><p>“Okay, no problem, man. There’s no rush. We can take it slow.” He took a pencil and small sketchpad from the cushion beside him and flipped through the pages. There were a few inky sketches that caught Neil’s eye before Matt opened to a blank page. “Start with what you can remember.”</p><p>Neil told him: it was usually a huge, human-sized circle on the cement floor in the basement. His father only used blood. Inside the circle would be another, smaller circle. The center was where the reversed pentagram was, an upside-down star. Each tip of the star touched the inner circle. In the outer circle, there were strange symbols Neil could not quite grasp.</p><p>“That’s where I’m stuck,” he said.</p><p>Matt hummed at the incomplete drawing. “It’s not the Sigil of Baphomet, right?”</p><p>“The what?”</p><p>“It’s what the Church of Satan uses,” he said, and flipped open to a new page to sketch it. “The Sabbatic Goat. It’s a human-made symbol that’s essentially useless. Most only use it as a visual representation of their beliefs, but a few still use it to try and call Satan.”</p><p>The question slipped before Neil could stop himself. “Is Satan real?”</p><p>Matt shrugged. “No idea. Never met it.”</p><p><i>It</i>. Neil chewed on the inside of his lip. He wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure where to start. Instead, he focused on the drawing. The Sigil of Baphomet had the familiar two circles and pentagram, but inside the pentagram was the outline of a goat, and in the outer circle Matt wrote symbols. No, not just symbols. Those were letters.</p><p>Neil pointed. “Is that Hebrew?”</p><p>“Yeah. You recognize it?”</p><p>“Mhm.” His father owned some books in Hebrew. “But the sigil I saw didn’t have Hebrew in it. And there was no goat.”</p><p>“Okay. Sigil of Baphomet is out. Were there any letters in the sigil at all?”</p><p>“Maybe. I think there were, in the outer ring.”</p><p>“That’s great.”</p><p>They spent the next hour going back and forth. Matt drew random sigils to see if they matched Neil’s memory, but none did. Then he began to draw signs and symbols often seen in the sigils: arrows, crescent moons, geometric shapes and swirling lines. </p><p>“There’s an endless supply of designs,” Matt told him. “So it’s fair that you can’t remember.”</p><p>But after being shown various different signs and symbols, something caught Neil’s eye, and a memory took shape in his head. He couldn’t tell if it was a false memory, formed because he’d been staring at these drawings for so long, or if it was real. And the memory had nothing to do with what he’d once seen, but what he’d heard long ago.</p><p>
  <i>“Nathaniel.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes, father?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Do they teach you the alchemical symbols at school?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“No, sir.” He didn’t even know what that was.</i>
</p><p><i>“I don’t suppose they do. Here.” His father placed a nameless book atop the desk where Nathaniel studied. It was beige and heavy and had patterns running along its seams. “</i>Hermetic Alchemy.<i> These are the things you should be learning, this is what is important. The tria prima, the unicode block for Alchemical Symbols. It is unlike anything else they teach you. I expect you to finish before the week ends.”</i></p><p>Neil never got a chance to read the book, or even flip through it. Later that night, his mother saw the book atop his homework and snatched it back. By the time the week came to an end, they ran away from the Wesninski home.</p><p>“Have you ever heard of <i>tria prima</i>?”</p><p>“The three primes. They’re alchemic symbols for the mind, body, and soul.”</p><p>“Can you sketch them?”</p><p>There was a pained expression on Matt’s face, the reason for it completely lost to Neil. Matt drew the symbols anyway, speaking through them as he did so.</p><p>“Mercury - salt - sulfur. They look familiar to you?”</p><p>Neil ran his fingers over the sketches. “Yeah, they do. They were bunched together in the center of the pentagram, but there was more to it.”</p><p>Matt frowned as they both stared down at the page. He flipped back to the original drawing. Two outer rings. A pentagram on the inside. Now he added the three primes in the middle of the star.</p><p>“I think I have an idea what sigil this is,” Matt said. “Stop me if it looks wrong.”</p><p>With that, Matt finished the drawing. In each space between the points of the inverted star, he drew random symbols, more unexplainable shapes. Between the inner and outer rings, he spelled out, “CORVUS CORAX” in block letters.</p><p>As a whole, it looked very right. He pictured himself as a young boy, peeking from above, red blood lit by candles and their dancing flames.</p><p>“Yeah,” Neil whispered, “that’s it.”</p><p>Matt sat back on the couch and scanned the page again and again. Whoever’s sigil this was had him looking nervous.</p><p>“Dan!” he called.</p><p>Dan came out from around the corner of the hallway. She’d put on a pair of blue jeans beneath the baggy sweater, and there were now starry earrings dangling from her ears.</p><p>“Look.” Matt lifted up the sketch of the sigil and faced it toward her. The curious smile on her face fell instantly.</p><p>“Well, shit.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. enemies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil gets some answers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Seriously, where would he be?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Dan, I’m not Andrew’s keeper.”</p><p>Dan, who was pacing back and forth through Wymack’s living room with her hands on her hips, glared at Nicky. “You’re his cousin.”</p><p>“So? We all know how elusive Andrew is.”</p><p>“Did you check Aaron's?”</p><p>“Yes,” Nicky said, sounding exasperated. “Andrew wasn’t there.”</p><p>Wymack came out from his office with his phone to his ear. “Dan, it’s fine.”</p><p>“It’s not fine. This is dangerous for all of us.”</p><p>“He’ll be back tonight.”</p><p>“Is that him on the phone?” Nicky asked.</p><p>“Yeah, but -”</p><p>Nicky held his hand out for the cell phone and Wymack sighed before handing it to him. Nicky spoke into the phone. “Andrew? Look, we’re -” Nicky pulled away to look at the screen. “He hung up on me.”</p><p>Wymack took his phone back. “I don’t think there’s any reason to panic right now. There’s no immediate danger, and the only person involved right now is Andrew.” He turned to the couch where Neil was sitting. “And Neil.”</p><p>Legs crossed and hands in his lap, Neil wondered for the tenth time what he was doing here. Upon Matt’s reveal of the sigil, Dan had called Wymack in a frenzy of rambling words, and they all three went to Wymack’s place, where Nicky already was. No one had explained anything to Neil, which did little to settle his stomach. If Matt and Dan were so shaken by the drawing of the pentagram, then Neil had every reason to be panicking, too. </p><p>Neil’s father must have awoken something terrible.</p><p>And Neil’s father, with that wild power, was going to come for Neil. Neil could do nothing to stop it. Not even telling a demon his wish was enough to stop Nathan Wesninski.</p><p>Neil shivered and directed his gaze toward Wymack, who seemed to be their center, the one who held them all together.</p><p>“Can you tell me who my father has summoned?”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”</p><p>“It’s my father,” Neil argued. “It’s the sigil that I saw, and it’s about the deal I made with Andrew. I should know.”</p><p>Everyone in the room watched Wymack. He had on an inquisitive look, maybe debating himself in his head, and eventually waved a hand at the elevator doors.</p><p>“Go, go. Everyone get out of my face. Let me talk to Neil alone.”</p><p>They shuffled out in silence. Matt sent Neil a sympathetic look, like he was apologizing, but there was no reason for it. This is what Neil needed. Answers.</p><p>Once they left, Wymack sat on the opposite end of his couch. Despite everyone’s apartment layout being the same, each place he’d seen was different, bleeding with individuality. Wymack’s apartment had a lot of color, tons of vintage furniture, and an abundance of yarn. Some decor pieces looked like they did not belong, as if someone else lived here with Wymack, but Neil said nothing about it.</p><p>“I’m not going to bullshit you,” Wymack started. “It’ll be awhile until Andrew finds your father.”</p><p>Neil nodded. “Because of the sigil he drew.”</p><p>“Right. Just like you, he summoned a demon. Except your father summoned something much stronger, much more malicious. And since he summoned the demon multiple times, it’s clear he knows its intent.”</p><p>“And what intent is that?”</p><p>Wymack leaned back on the couch. “Neil. Everyone has a natural enemy. For years now, ours has been the Moriyamas.”</p><p>“I’ve heard that name before,” Neil said. He tried tracking back in his head for a memory, but found nothing.</p><p>“I’m not surprised, if your father was summoning one of them so often. The sigil he used is the Moriyama Seal.” Wymack tapped his finger on his knee. “You know, everyone who stays at The Tenth Circle is connected, whether they want to be or not. I made it that way. If a demon wants a benevolent or neutral place to stay on earth, they come here. There aren’t a lot of us, but we help each other, even if some of us don’t want to. Demons very rarely move in packs, so when they do, it’s a big deal. When I made this building, it became quite a big deal.”</p><p>Neil caught on. “And the Moriyamas are like that? A pack of demons?”</p><p>“I guess you could say that, though they’d rather call it family. The father and son empire. Kengo and Ichirou are untouchable demons with vicious power. They like to play into the traditional role of a demon, and I can’t blame them. It’s like food for us.”</p><p>“A traditional role,” Neil repeated, monotone.</p><p>“Demons cling to plague and war. Deprivation and death. A lot of conflict you see may be the effect of a demon playing games with humans. We think humans are weak. Inferior to us, who were created with power. It took me centuries to question that ideology. The Moriyamas still bask in it. They spread chaos.”</p><p>There was a string that had wrapped around Neil’s heart, and with each new word, Wymack was pulling on it. Neil’s chest constricted. “And my father has harnessed that power.”</p><p>“Yes. I don’t know if you’re running from your father or not, but if you are, it’s a miracle you found Andrew. Without him, I’m not sure you would’ve survived much longer.”</p><p>“That’s reassuring,” Neil said flatly.</p><p>“Like I said, I’m not here to bullshit you.”</p><p>
  <i>If his father had the resources of a demon, why wasn’t Neil dead yet?</i>
</p><p>He wanted to get the conversation off himself. “Why are the Moriyamas your enemy?”</p><p>“We took something they thought was theirs.”</p><p>“Was it worth a lot of money?”</p><p>“Well. You could say it’s priceless.”</p><p>Neil stared at him a moment longer, but Wymack didn’t elaborate. Despite being a demon, the man looked tired. </p><p>“Anyway. For now, it’s fine. Your father doesn’t know where you are, and so the Moriyamas have no reason to start with us. The only issue here is Andrew.”</p><p>“I don’t have to stay here if it’s a problem,” Neil said. </p><p>It hurt a little to say it. It’d be idiotic not to take this chance. This was the only place in the world that could actually protect him. But Neil wasn’t going to stay somewhere he didn’t feel welcomed, especially if it was potentially unsafe.</p><p>Wymack assessed Neil for a long moment, then shrugged. “I may run the building, but I don’t control the demons.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t it be easier for him to kill me?” Neil said, curious about Andrew’s motives. “It’d get his freedom back quicker than anything else.”</p><p>Wymack laughed. “Demons don’t kill as often as we breathe, and we have many reasons for the choices we make. You’d be surprised.”</p><p>Neil remembered his body stretched over a blood soaked sigil, the hush of quieted leaves, burning red eyes and matching horns come to ask Neil what he wants. He heard bones snap and tasted death in the air. He saw a god before him. Back then, with the cold grass beneath him, Neil had felt the smallest, tiniest shred of hope.</p><p>Maybe it was Andrew’s prerogative to kill him. Neil wouldn’t beg for mercy from someone who’d saved him.</p><p>Wymack was watching him with those knowing eyes.  “I’ll tell you this to quiet your thoughts, Neil. A demon cannot kill those its made a contract with.”</p><p>And that, well.</p><p>Neil couldn’t stop the grin from stretching across his mouth. He was glad there were no mirrors in the room. Something about the curve of his lips reminded him of his father, and he didn’t want to see the man’s expression on his own face.</p><p>Even if anyone else in the world could kill him if they wanted to, it was a small victory knowing Andrew couldn’t. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Well-rested and uncertain, there was no reason for Neil to sleep, so he bundled up on Andrew’s couch and waited for the demon’s return. Wymack had fed Neil a frozen meal and talked with him mindlessly for the next hour or two. Eventually, he suggested Neil sleep at his place, but the prospect didn’t sound exciting. While Wymack looked nice, grown men had never helped Neil feel safe before. Their heights and muscles and overall demeanor resembled his father too much. He’d rather take his chances at Andrews, especially knowing now that the demon couldn’t kill him.</p><p>It wasn’t that he was suspicious of Andrew, or anyone else in the building. There was no reason to be. Neil just knew caution had saved him before. Trust was not a gift to be handed out.</p><p>The elevator doors slid open as Neil was beginning to doze off.</p><p>Behind the parting doors was Andrew. The red of his eyes was alive, horns casting shadows against the wall behind him. He didn’t look any particular way, not angry or exhausted. But the slow crawl of his footsteps, each boot-clad step echoing with a loud heaviness, made Neil sit up.</p><p>Andrew came for him fast, the movement of his body like a swift breeze through the apartment. One of his knees rested on the couch while he hovered over Neil, a hand on Neil’s throat. Neil bent his neck back to face the demon above him. He made no move to fight back. </p><p>“I hear you have connections in high places, little rabbit.”</p><p>“You’d be stupid to think I knew who my father was summoning.”</p><p>“Would I be?” Andrew’s voice dripped with languid honey.</p><p>“Yes. I didn’t even believe in it until I met you.”</p><p>“You're a boy raised by a power hungry worshipper.”</p><p>“I’m a realist.”</p><p>“You’re a risk.”</p><p>“And you’re tied to me no matter what I do or say, so stop with the theatrics.”</p><p>Andrew’s grip tightened. This close, it looked like his eyes were bleeding. He said nothing, and the hold he had on Neil’s neck became nearly merciless. It was enough to make Neil uncomfortable, to irregulate his breathing. Neil reached to grasp Andrew’s wrist, digging his nails into the skin as he did so. Andrew's eyes flickered to where Neil touched him. His fingers dug in tighter.</p><p>A heated flush rose up on Neil’s cheeks. He forced himself not to react; he wouldn’t give Andrew the satisfaction. Andrew stared down with intent and did not release his hold.</p><p>Only when Neil could no longer breathe and he was forced to gasp for air did Andrew let go. </p><p>Neil sputtered, coughing as he held his throat with both hands. He glared at the demon, who had taken a step away from the couch. </p><p>“Asshole.”</p><p>“Demon, actually.”</p><p>Neil managed to roll his eyes as he coughed against the rawness in his throat. “You’re terrible at resolving problems.”</p><p>“You are not a problem. You are a small blight in an eternity of joy.” Andrew’s delivery was flat, not even an attempt at faking enthusiasm.</p><p>“So what will you do?”</p><p>“I’ll kill your father as I’m obliged to.”</p><p>Neil rose a brow in doubt. “You’re not scared of the Moriyamas?”</p><p>Andrew tilted his head at Neil. The movement almost looked sympathetic, as if he were judging Neil’s lacking knowledge. Neil grit his teeth to keep from snapping back.</p><p>“Poor rabbit, scared of the world and expecting others to feel the same.”</p><p>“Oh, fuck you.”</p><p>Andrew continued as if Neil hadn’t said anything. “I’ll do my part. You should do yours, too.”</p><p>“Which is?”</p><p>“Make yourself scarce until the deal is met. Unseen, unheard.”</p><p>“I’m not an object for decoration. I can’t just be a husk walking around your apartment.”</p><p>“Try,” Andrew said, and with that he went into the kitchen. The fridge door opened, followed by the obnoxious and purposeful sound of packages being rummaged around.</p><p>Neil wasn’t going to sit around and wait for Andrew to scold him if he moved or spoke, and now that Andrew had tried to provoke him, he didn’t feel guilty about taking the bedroom. Fuck feeling guilty over a stolen bed. Neil would use the resources here just to be spiteful.</p><p>Agitated (and annoyed at himself for being agitated), Neil closed the door, locked it behind him, and climbed under the covers, shoes and all. His bag, which he’d taken into the bed with him, was a bulky presence. Almost like a person.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. spades</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil takes a mental break.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry that i haven't posted the last 2 weekends!! i worked both weekends and didn't have the time to proof read my chapters.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil thought he’d mind a week of silence, of staying out of Andrew’s way and keeping to himself. He was instead surprised to find how relaxing it was. While he didn’t know what was happening regarding the Moriyamas or his father, that ignorance gave him momentary peace. </p><p>The apartment remained mostly unoccupied. Andrew disappeared during the week, coming back only occasionally at early morning hours. The smell of tobacco would drift into the bedroom and wrap around Neil while he slept. When he woke, the apartment looked untouched.</p><p>He bathed and took long naps. There were no actual ingredients in the kitchen to cook with, but there was enough prepacked food to last Neil awhile. There was a television perched on the living room wall, and he’d watch the news or exy when he needed a distraction. Most of the time, he’d stand by the window with his arms crossed, watching the city below. He’d eye the cars and try to pick out the people, though he could never clearly see them from this height. He kept searching for any sign of his father or his father’s people. There wasn’t ever anything to find.</p><p>It did nothing to relieve him. </p><p>After a week of repetition, it was Matt who stole him from boredom. He came out from the elevator more like an angel than a demon.</p><p>The smile on his face was clean-cut, big. “Come on. I’ve been practicing.”</p><p>By the taste of the chicken, Matt was quickly becoming a brilliant cook. It was warm and filling and everything Neil had been craving.</p><p>During their meal, Matt said, “Sorry. I was out of town this week.”</p><p><i>Out of town</i> seemed like a translation for <i>summoned</i>. Either way, it was none of Neil’s business, and he shifted in discomfort when Matt apologized.</p><p>Neil said, “This is weird, isn’t it? Me being here.”</p><p>“Not really.” Matt blinked in confusion. “Why would it be?”</p><p>“I’m a human.”</p><p>“We’ve had humans live in The Tenth Circle before.”</p><p>“Really? What happened to them?”</p><p>Matt laughed. “Nothing bad.” He took another bite of his dish and hummed a little, pleased with his cooking skills. “Are you unhappy?”</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“Of course it does.”</p><p>Neil shook his head. “I’m fine. Just feels like a dream, is all. The more time I spend here, the more none of it seems real.”</p><p>“What a creative imagination you have if you’ve dreamt us all up.”</p><p>After dinner, Matt told him about how beautiful Auckland was, which to Neil sounded like an unlikely place for a demon to be summoned. He bit back any skepticism he had as he listened to Matt rave about glistening water and kind people.</p><p>“I’m trying to view the places I go through the eyes of a human.”</p><p>“Which entails… what exactly?”</p><p>Matt shrugged. “Giving myself a minute to take it all in? I don’t know, I’m still deciding.”</p><p>Neil didn’t know either. It had been a long time since he’d taken in the scenery without being distracted by the threat of his father.</p><p>They talked until late, and Neil finally left, kindly dodging Matt’s bear hug. He purposefully didn’t look at Matt’s disappointment as the elevator ascended.</p><p>He belatedly realized that the elevator was taking him up without another demon inside with him. The thought flitted into his head and left just as quickly. </p><p>After a week of relative silence, Neil didn’t expect to see anyone else today. When he got back to Andrew’s apartment, though, he found the familiar sweep of blonde hair lounging on the couch.</p><p>Neil opened his mouth to greet Andrew, except there was something different about him. His usually flat expression was twisted into one of disgust. All of Andrew’s apathy had been replaced by an off-putting sneer. His body was tense on the couch rather than the relaxed state it was usually in. And the horns. The horns were a little taller than Andrew’s were.</p><p>Neil squinted at the figure before him. “I didn’t know demons had doppelgangers.”</p><p>“We don’t,” the other-Andrew said, standing up slowly from where he’d been sitting. His voice was more inclined than Andrew’s, pressed with emotion and distaste. “I’m Aaron.”</p><p>Demon cousins, demon twins. Neil wasn’t surprised. “I guess I don’t really know the rules of demonology.”</p><p>“I guess you don’t. How’re you enjoying your stay?”</p><p>Neil knew a trap when he heard one. “It’s just <i>magical</i>. I never knew I could enjoy vacationing with demons this much.”</p><p>A guttural growl came out from Aaron’s throat, an unnatural sound. “At least have the decency to know when you’re unwanted.”</p><p>“Of course I know,” Neil said. “I’m not daft.”</p><p>“Could’ve fooled me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, do I know you? Because you’re acting as if you know me.”</p><p>“I know your type.”</p><p>“And what’s that?”</p><p>“You’re a leech. You’re extorting my brother. And you’re a filthy liar.”</p><p>Neil rolled his eyes. What a load of bullshit. “Wow. I thought you and your brother seemed different, but you’re actually the same. You’re both dicks.”</p><p>“You know more about the Moriyamas than you’re letting on. You know something, but you won’t say it because you want to keep living in comfort. Or you’re purposefully trying to fuck us over.”</p><p>“Demons are a lot stupider than I originally thought,” Neil said.</p><p>The elevator doors dinged open just as Aaron grabbed Neil by the collar. Aaron slammed him into the wall, eyes filled with manic rage. </p><p>Nicky’s voice carried into the apartment. “Woah, hey, what the hell?” He tugged on Aaron, pulling him off of Neil. “Aaron, you know what Andrew told you.”</p><p>“I’ll kill him if I want to,” Aaron hissed. “Andrew can’t dictate what I do.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, just relax for now.” Nicky shot Neil a look. “What happened?”</p><p>Neil shrugged. “He was looking for a fight the second I got back.”</p><p>“Aaron, seriously?”</p><p>“What?” Aaron snapped. He shoved Nicky off of him and stomped back to the doors of the elevator. They opened immediately, welcoming him. He pointed a finger at Neil and gave his last warning. “You’re a plague on this building. Leave before I make you.”</p><p>The doors shut.</p><p>Nicky shook his head and exhaled a shaky breath. “That kid, for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>“What did he mean?” Neil asked. “What did Andrew tell him?”</p><p>“Just to leave you alone.” Nicky walked around Neil and into the kitchen. Now that Neil wasn’t being pinned against the wall, he noticed the reusable shopping bag in Nicky’s hand. Nicky began unloading groceries and putting them away, mostly snacks and frozen meals, with some bonus fruit. “I got you more tea. Oh, and Andrew said don’t touch his ice cream, or he’ll cut off your hand.”</p><p>“Great.” Neil went around the counter and sat on the stool, watching Nicky mess around in the fridge. “What’s Aaron’s deal? I’ve never even met him.”</p><p>Nicky sighed. “Neil, this building is a pit of chaos. If you could predict why a demon does something, I’d be amazed. Even I surprise myself sometimes. As for Aaron, he’s… well, he’s always been sensitive to change.”</p><p>“So it’s just Aaron? You don’t think I’m a ‘plague’?” Neil asked. </p><p>“No, I don’t think that. I think you’re a nice change to a usually stagnant scenery.”</p><p>Neil took that without question and rested his face in his hands. Even if every demon in this building secretly despised him, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Nothing that had happened thus far had been his own fault, and he refused to keep questioning it.</p><p>Instead of pushing it, Neil thought of something he’d meant to ask Matt earlier, but hadn’t had a chance to do.</p><p>“By the way, why is The Tenth Circle in Boston?” It was a random spot for a nest of demons to reside. While he understood why demons might want to stay close to a city filled with people, there were plenty of other cities that made more sense.</p><p>“Boston is special,” Nicky said. “It aligns itself with the powerful part of hell. It’s a city brimming with demon activity. Most of us are called here when we’re on earth. I like to think of it as a charging station, because when we’re here we’re at our strongest.”</p><p>When Neil had been trying to run to Canada weeks before, he’d naturally gravitated towards Boston to cut through. Even though there were better routes. Even though Boston was such an easy place to get caught.</p><p>He straightened his back slowly, thinking back a few weeks. He remembered stepping into the city limits, the buzzing of his skin, his body telling him this was right. At the time, it hadn’t made sense, but he hadn’t thought deeper about it. He’d walked into Boston like he belonged there.</p><p>Neil was careful with his next words, trying for aloofness. “Does Boston call to humans?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“People who aren’t demons - do they feel the same way about Boston? That it’s special?”</p><p>Nicky shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, why would they?”</p><p>“Right,” Neil mumbled. “Why would they?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Four suits in red and black stared back at Neil from the table. He bit his lip as his eyes ran over the cards, looking for the red eight he needed. Solitaire was a plain game, no frills or excitement attached to it, but it was something to fill the time. His mother had taught him to play on the dirty floor of a motel room.</p><p>
  <i>“Did you know the ace of spades is a spiritual card?” she’d asked him, voice softer than a lullaby.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“It is?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Yes. It’s the bridge between the spirits and reality. Between dreams and consequences.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He’d stared down at the ace of spades with a rising wonder in his chest. “I like spades. It looks like a heart.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>His mother had shook her head. “No, Abram. It’s a weapon. Because dreams will only ever hurt us.”</i>
</p><p>While he played alone in the dim living room, Andrew returned. His eyes seemed more red than normal, glaring like street lights in pouring rain. He stepped out from the elevator, slowly turning his head down to where Neil was on the floor, the cards set up in messy lines.</p><p>Neil expected some retort, something about making himself unseen. Instead, Andrew silently made his way to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, shoving it open to smoke in peace. Though the smell of smoke fell into the open air, it drifted inside, too. Neil took a deep breath, overwhelmed by it, staring down at the ace. The spade looked like it was dancing. Neil blinked.</p><p>A minute passed without Neil being able to concentrate on his game. He turned just in time to see Andrew squishing the butt of the cigarette, the flame diminished. </p><p>Without taking the time to think, Neil asked, “Want to play gin?”</p><p>“I hate gin.”</p><p>“Go Fish?”</p><p>Andrew stared out at the city lights for so long that Neil gave up and focused his attention back on the table. He didn’t expect anything to happen, but soft-padded footsteps came around the couch until Andrew was in front of him. He sat on the floor across from Neil, legs crossed. He pushed together all the cards spread over the table and arranged them neatly so he could shuffle. Satisfied with the deck, he dealt and set the remaining cards in the middle.</p><p>Neil went first. “Do you have any sevens?”</p><p>“Go fish. Do you have a two?”</p><p>Reluctantly, Neil handed Andrew his two of hearts. “Do you have any nines?”</p><p>“Go fish. Do you have any jacks?”</p><p>Neil stared at Andrew. “Are you cheating?”</p><p>“How could I cheat at Go Fish?”</p><p>“You’re a demon.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“Maybe you can… see through the cards or something?”</p><p>“You’d rather think I can see through objects than believe I’m better than you at a card game?”</p><p>“Okay, just for your information, Go Fish is a game of luck, so you can’t be better than me.”</p><p>Andrew looked pointedly at Neil. “Then why am I winning?” Neil didn’t reply, so Andrew pushed once more. “Jacks?”</p><p>Sighing, Neil handed Andrew his jack. It went on like this for one more round until Neil finally got a card from Andrew, then told him with great pleasure to go fish on the next round. It was a small victory that left Neil giddy for the rest of the game. They kept playing, and when Andrew eventually won, they started a new game without question.</p><p>After Andrew won the second round, he got up without comment and disappeared down the hallway. There were two doors: one led to the master bedroom where Neil stayed, and the other led to a locked room. Neil heard the door unlock, open, then lock again as Andrew went into the room.</p><p>Neil sat back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Without the sound of shuffling cards, the living room was quiet. The outside air was seeping in, choking Neil in its chill. He sighed and crawled onto the couch.</p><p>Neil didn’t know what he’d been trying to accomplish, but whatever it was left a bitter taste in his mouth.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you have any questions about this fic pls message me on tumblr @<a href="https://anddreil.tumblr.com/">anddreil</a>!! thanks so much for all your kind comments. they're lovely to read.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. past and present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Neil might not be the only human in The Tenth Circle.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok so.... super late but my excuse is that i'm writing three things at once (this, another fic, and a novel) so i'm having to switch between the three constantly but i still love this fic so just expect irregular updates</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil didn’t expect anything after his random night of card games with Andrew. Which was why he was so shocked the next evening, when Andrew came home, sat down on the floor across from Neil, and demanded he hand over the deck.</p><p>They didn’t just play Go Fish. Despite claiming to dislike Gin, Andrew was actually pretty good at it. They played War, too, which Neil won every time they played. After losing game after game, he couldn’t help the satisfaction from spreading across his face.</p><p>With every accidental slip of a grin, Andrew said, “You look stupid.”</p><p>The next few nights moved in a similar motion. Andrew would return, eyes alight with crimson, and disturb whatever Neil was doing. Sometimes, he’d be eating or watching the news. He’d found a book about ancient Rome, which he was halfway through. The days were spent either alone or with Matt. And the nights belonged to the cards and cigarette smoke.</p><p>It was an unspoken rule that Neil not ask anything to disturb the peace. Clearly, fulfilling Neil’s demand was near impossible. The longer Neil stayed in The Tenth Circle, the more paranoid he became. If Andrew was having this much trouble finding his father, the Moriyama demon must truly be untouchable.</p><p>The days were uneventful. Despite keeping occupied, Neil was slowly losing himself in nothingness.</p><p>“I’m going to go for a run tomorrow,” Neil said one night over cards. It fell out accidentally. A musing as they played.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“I said no.”</p><p>“That’s a shitty reason.”</p><p>Andrew laid down a card and said nothing. Underneath the last lingering whirls of tobacco was a dewy scent, like rain and grey mornings.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Neil said.</p><p>“Oh?” Andrew asked. Camouflaged by curiosity, his tone was dangerous.</p><p>“Because I’m going to do it anyway.”</p><p>He saw it coming. Of course he did. The movement was right there, clear as day. And yet, he was too slow to move out of reach. Andrew’s hand shot out, his fingers the fangs of a viper, and gripped Neil’s wrist. In a lousy attempt to loosen him, Neil slammed Andrew’s hand against the coffee table. Maybe it would have worked, if Andrew didn’t let go just as fast, forcing Neil to smack his own wrist into the hard surface.</p><p>“What the fuck,” Neil said, pulling his arm to his chest. It was throbbing.</p><p>“Idiot.”</p><p>“You move too fast. I want a fair fight.”</p><p>“Nothing about this is fair.” Andrew stood up, towering over where Neil sat. His eyes looked like matching red moons, glowing over the sea. “If you leave this building on your own, don’t hope to come back.” He started towards the elevator. Neil wondered where he slept, or if he ever did. He never spent the night in his own apartment.</p><p>“Can’t I get an explanation?” Neil said after him.</p><p>“I don’t owe you anything but the death of your father.”</p><p>The elevator doors shut.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Neil woke up, the sun was soft and orange and natural, and Neil’s leg was twitching.</p><p>He wanted to soak up the light. Smell the open air, and not just through the windows. He knew what this was - he was going stir crazy. The terrible thing was, Neil knew how to hide. He had squatted more times than he remembered. Sometimes he wouldn’t leave a house for weeks, not until the paranoia set in. And in these homes, he wouldn’t have a television, or a stuffed pantry, or this selection of books. He’d have a single magazine, or a newspaper. But he would survive like he always did.</p><p>So why did it annoy him that he was stuck inside now, in this comfortable and snug home. Was it because he finally knew his father had the power of demons on his side? Was his fear only heightening with the passing of each day?</p><p>Or did he simply, desperately, just need to go on a run?</p><p><i>Screw it</i>, Neil thought, fastening his sneakers to his feet. If he couldn’t go against Andrew’s word, for whatever reason, he’d figure something out on his own. </p><p>The apartment was spacious enough - wide and long. Too much room for one person. Whoever had designed the building wanted its inhabitants to roam free. </p><p>Neil got to work. He pushed everything toward the center of the living space, clearing an open path around the sofas. It was a mini track: past the kitchens, then the windows, then the bookshelf and the entrance to the hallway. A circle that Neil would make his own.</p><p>It wasn’t anything special. As Neil ran in his confined area, he almost felt moronic. There were no gusts of wind, no green trees waving their raggedy branches above him. He had to make do with the open windows, staring out them each time he passed as if he were truly under the sun.</p><p>It worked, though. The muscles in Neil’s calves felt good and stretched. Finally, he felt as if he were working out the kinks from sitting around all day.</p><p>He was on his 108th lap, or 112th, he’d kind of lost track around a hundred, when the elevator doors opened.</p><p>“Andrew, what the fuck are you doing? I can hear you stomping from -”</p><p>The voice cut off as he caught sight of Neil, who slowed down on the opposite side of the room. The appearance of another stranger wasn’t what stopped him. It was the familiarity, the near instant recognition.</p><p>“Holy shit… <i>Nathaniel</i>?”</p><p>No. </p><p>Not here, in the last safe place Neil had. </p><p>Some people changed as they got older, their faces developing and molding into adults. Some people changed so much, it was impossible to identify them.</p><p>Kevin Day did not look any different than when he was a child. His black hair was still combed to one side, slick and short. There were his high cheekbones, and his athletic build. Neil caught sight of that beauty mark he had, the one right below his eye. His skin still looked smooth. His aged face was most apparent in his eyes - they were hardened with time, less optimistic. Now, they were widened with visceral shock.</p><p>Confusion was a shallow reaction, while impulse acted faster. Neil’s hand reached for a glass cup on the coffee table, the one he’d drank water from that morning. He threw it without thinking and missed only by inches, the cup exploding against the wall beside Kevin’s face. Glass shot out everywhere. Kevin naturally cringed away from it, but Neil was already reaching for anything else he could grab - a hardcover book on insects.</p><p>“Stay back,” he snapped, and threw the book in warning. This time, the object landed, and Kevin grunted as it smacked his arm.</p><p>“Stop! Stop, what the fuck are you doing?”</p><p>“Stay away from me,” Neil hissed.</p><p>“Nathaniel, I’m not - I’m not here to hurt you.”</p><p>Neil shook his head. “You know my father.”</p><p>It had been years since they’d seen one another. Neil didn’t know how Kevin had found him now, how he’d gotten past the demons in the building, but anyone he’d known as a Wesninski was surely hungry to hurt him.</p><p>There was a shelf on the wall, the one with random miscellaneous that Neil could never figure out. He picked up the tiny glass jar of teeth and got ready to aim.</p><p>Andrew was beside him in an instant, hand wrapped around his wrist in a relentless grip. Neil yelped and dropped the jar, only for Andrew to snatch it with his free hand. The air was suddenly static, lightning ready to strike in the demon’s home.</p><p>Angry as he was (and maybe panicked, though he’d never say it), Neil refused to speak first. He glared at Andrew, then down at their hands, where he hoped he’d burn a hole into Andrew’s skin.</p><p>He didn’t, of course, but Andrew still let go after a short moment. He set the small jar back on the shelf and looked at Kevin.</p><p>“I told you to stay at Aaron’s,” Andrew said.</p><p>“The stomping up here woke me up,” Kevin explained. “I didn’t realize Nathaniel was…”</p><p>“It’s Neil now,” Neil snapped, just as Andrew asked, “Stomping?”</p><p>Neil crossed his arms. “I went for a run. In the apartment.”</p><p>“You are immensely stupid.” Andrew looked between the two humans in his living room. “Doesn’t explain why you’ve decided to pelt him with my stuff. Which, by the way, that cup was very old.”</p><p>No one answered, and though nothing moved in the eternal apathy of Andrew’s features, Neil felt a weight in the stare thrown his way.</p><p>It was Kevin who answered first, somewhat oblivious to the strained energy.</p><p>“Na- Neil and I are previously acquainted.”</p><p>Andrew looked unsurprised. The calm plainness of his features seemed too practiced.</p><p>Neil gritted his teeth. “You knew?”</p><p>Andrew tilted his head, accessing whatever he saw on Neil’s face with little interest. “I know of Kevin’s relation to a certain demonic family. I know of your father’s relation to said family. I only made an educated guess.”</p><p>“I’m confused,” Kevin cut in. “Why is he here, though?”</p><p>“Same reason as you. All humans are hiding from something.”</p><p>“He summoned you?” Kevin asked, incredulous.</p><p>“Wait,” Neil said because they were moving too fast, swimming through this crashing wave with ease, while Neil was struggling beneath it, drowning in it, choking on the salt of the sea. This was not right. His entire life of running had always been a straight line: murderous father, protective mother, run, survive. Only weeks before was the tangled web finally revealed to Neil, helping him make sense of his complex life. The power of his father, the confidence, all gifted by the true existence of demons. All the symbols he’d seen drawn, the people obsessed with the occult. That made sense now.</p><p>So why was Kevin here?</p><p>Why was Andrew implying that Kevin had connections to the Moriyamas, the very family that gave Nathan Wesninski his power?</p><p>When would the revelations stop? When would Neil be able to understand it all, so he would no longer be left in the dark, less familiar with this world than everyone else?</p><p>He thought back to the last time he’d seen Kevin: the two of them sitting on a couch somewhere, grown men standing around and talking about them as if they weren’t there. A young man in the corner, watching Kevin and Neil with violent elation. The men were savagely persistent while his father argued back, defiant. These memories tended to blend together, seemingly unimportant against the backdrop of his own father’s abuse. Nothing held Neil’s attention back then quite like a knife over his head.</p><p>“Did I…” Neil started, staring at Kevin. “Have I met the Moriyamas?”</p><p>Kevin gaped at him. “Of course you have. Many times. They wanted you to -”</p><p>“Kevin,” Andrew said. “Let’s sit down first.”</p><p>Neil noticed that his legs were wobbly, like liquid ready to spill out, and he mindlessly walked to the couch without comment. The furniture was pushed closer together in consequence of his makeshift track, so he pushed himself over the arm of the sofa and settled into the corner of it. </p><p>The quiet stretched. Kevin looked anxious, eager for answers. He said nothing as he sat down, though, waiting for Neil to start.</p><p>Neil needed a distraction, something that would let him get ahold of himself, if only for a few seconds. He looked at Andrew, who’d sat far away from both of them on a barstool.</p><p>“How’d you get here, anyway?”</p><p>“I don’t need to take the elevator.”</p><p>“Then why do you?”</p><p>Andrew rested his arm on the counter. “Wymack prefers us to.”</p><p>“You look different,” Kevin interrupted. He was staring at Neil from the other side of the couch, eyes intense.</p><p>“I grew up.”</p><p>“No.” Kevin shook his head. “Your eyes. And your hair.”</p><p>Neil touched his cheek without thinking, remembering the false dark brown of his eyes, and the matching shade of his own hair. He was running out of the superficial supplies in his backpack: the contacts and the dye. He’d have to get some soon, or ask someone in the building he trusted to get some for him. It made him uncomfortable to know that Matt would do it if he asked.</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Neil began, but decided against continuing. He shrugged and let the implications speak for him. Kevin could connect the dots on his own. “So.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me what you know.”</p><p>“What do you remember?” Kevin asked.</p><p>“Not much. You would come over sometimes, during my father’s business meetings. I always thought you were the son of one of his partners.”</p><p>“They definitely weren’t his partners. Owners, perhaps.”</p><p>“Owners?” Neil’s eyebrows rose. No one could own his father. “Who?”</p><p>“The Moriyamas.” Kevin paused to contemplate Neil’s expression, then continued. “Your father had summoned them, a long time ago, before you were even born. The Moriyama sigil was passed down through generations of Wesninskis. Your ancestors were all devoted to the occult. Your father worships the Moriyamas, sacrifices for them so they gain power, and in return they let him conjure them again and again, granting his needs and making him unstoppable.”</p><p>Some of this, Neil knew. Still, hearing the details was only a hammered nail in his coffin. He would die, and it would be soon. He wasn’t going to pretend this outcome was not inevitable.</p><p>“Where do you come into this?” Neil asked.</p><p>“There’s a hierarchy to the Moriyama demons. Kengo and Ichirou rule them. They are untouchable, unbreakable, and they care very little about the insignificant lives of most humans. They reign over large areas and are very organized, deliberate. But there are other Moriyama demons, lesser ones, that like to play the smaller games.”</p><p>Kevin stopped, looking unsettled. His jaw was set, but the hands in his lap were twisting over themselves, troubled. He looked to Andrew for help and surprisingly, Andrew gave his input.</p><p>“There’s a Moriyama who keeps humans as pets,” Andrew explained.</p><p>Neil gaped at him, disgusted by the image of it, and confused all the same. He wasn’t sure how it related, until he looked to Kevin, who stared at the wall in trepid ignorance.</p><p>“You…?” he asked with horror.</p><p>“Yes. There’s a demon, Riko, who thinks of humans as servants, or outlets for his brutality. I’ve…” Kevin seemed unsure how to word himself, not wanting to make the story too personal. “I’ve been with Riko since I was a child. And you might have been his one day, too.”</p><p>Neil willed the panic to settle inside him. His hand bit into his own thigh where he dug his nails in, steadying himself. </p><p>Andrew sighed, staring far away. “It would have saved me a lot of time if I’d known about this.” Neil wondered if he was thinking about the days of confusion where he couldn’t find Nathan Wesninski, unaware at the time of his connection to the Moriyamas. Neil had spent hours with Matt trying to come up with the pentagram his father always drew, when Kevin was here with the easy answer the whole time.</p><p>Kevin glared at him. “How was I supposed to know Neil was here?”</p><p>“I once asked you to tell me everything about the Moriyamas. You’ve never mentioned a Wesninski.”</p><p>“It seemed irrelevant. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.” He looked at Neil for a long moment before turning away. “Besides, why wouldn’t you tell me you had someone staying at your place? Someone you knew has connections to the Moriyamas. Isn’t that my business?”</p><p>Andrew was still staring elsewhere, looking completely uninterested. “I knew you’d have a meltdown.”</p><p>“Is this why I’ve been staying with Aaron?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“What happened?” Neil whispered, incapable of raising his voice against the sudden pressure in his chest. He’d interrupted their squabbling, and they both looked at him now. “Why wasn’t I ever given to Riko?”</p><p>“There were disagreements about what to do with you. Riko wanted you for his own sadistic entertainment. Kengo wanted you as another Nathan, so after your father died, you would follow in his footsteps and continue sacrificing in the name of the Moriyamas. Your father wanted his Prophecy dead.”</p><p>Neil’s back stiffened. He bit the inside of his lip so hard, he tasted blood.</p><p>Andrew’s head slowly turned to him. He finally seemed tuned into the conversation.</p><p>“Prophecy?” he asked, voice low.</p><p>Kevin blinked, looking back and forth between them. “You didn’t tell him?”</p><p>“Both of you have been holding out on me. Is it normal for humans to lie so frequently?” As if sensing Andrew’s quick change in mood, a black shadow bounced from the hallway and to Andrew’s dangling feet. The cat rubbed itself against his ankles before jumping into his lap, settling there while Andrew nearly vibrated. It had been so long since Neil had seen the cat - he’d almost forgotten the creature existed.</p><p>Neil’s excuse fumbled off his tongue. “I thought you had guessed by now.”</p><p>“You thought wrong,” Andrew said. “Kevin, what prophecy?”</p><p>“You’ve never wondered why Neil left his father?”</p><p>“Kevin,” Neil warned.</p><p>“It’s not often that I seek the details of my Summoners’ lives,” Andrew answered flatly, eyeing Neil very carefully, as if frustrated by how little he knew about Neil.</p><p>“Maybe Neil should tell you,” Kevin suggested.</p><p>They both turned to Neil, expecting something, but he could only shrug in stubborn denial. “You’d probably know more about it than I do,” Neil accused Kevin, irritated that this had even been brought up. It was something he didn’t want to think about. If demons were real, did that mean the prophecy was, too?</p><p>Was it Neil’s destiny to die?</p><p>“Neil,” Kevin pressed.</p><p>“It’s stupid. It’s not even true.” Neil turned to Andrew to explain, emphasizing how unbelievable the entire thing was. “My father calls me his Prophecy. He says I’ll bring him power no one's had before, that my sacrifice will make him a god on earth. I’m not sure how the rumor started, though.”</p><p>“Even the Moriyamas say it,” Kevin added. “They say you were damned since you were born.”</p><p>Andrew’s jaw tightened. “And how many people know about this?”</p><p>“Well,” Neil began, “My father’s men. Every person who has ever worked for him. The Moriyamas, I guess, and maybe whichever humans are tied to them like Kevin.”</p><p>“The men who tried to murder you?”</p><p>Neil’s fingers clenched in his lap. “Yeah.”</p><p>“How desperate is your father to get his hands on you?”</p><p>Neil looked away. He bit on his tongue, nauseated as he thought of his father, the man who would someday kill him. As much as he refuted the idea of the Prophecy, he knew his own father would never let go of the idea, of the promise of power.</p><p>“It’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. close as sisters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The last demons of The Tenth Circle arrive.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sneakers were completely black: the laces, the tongue, the checkmark on the side. Every bit of the shoe was shadowed, impossible to get dirty. The pair looked brand new and expensive. They were agile. Light. Neil liked everything about them.</p><p>Nicky was watching him as he opened the shoe box, hope in his kind eyes. </p><p>“Do you like them?”</p><p>Neil held back his frown. “Does this have anything to with Matt baking me cookies earlier?”</p><p>“What? No! I have no idea why he would even do that. That’s crazy.”</p><p>“Nicky.”</p><p>“What?” Nicky asked, exasperated. “Can’t I buy you some sneakers? I mean, I just felt bad. Your old ones were really falling apart.”</p><p>“They were fine,” Neil muttered, but he couldn’t make himself mean it. His grip on the sneaker tightened. “I don’t want pity gifts.”</p><p>“They’re not… Oh my god, Neil, just accept the shoes.”</p><p>Nicky took the other shoe out from the box and set it on the floor beside Neil. Neil watched with hopeless irritation.</p><p>It had only been a day since Neil had revealed his role as an assumed prophecy. Though he’d never intended to speak about it, having Kevin here made it impossible to hold back. Kevin knew too much, and Andrew was pushy enough to find out everything he could. Afterwards, the information had been relied to Wymack and by extension, the rest of The Tenth Circle. Now everytime a demon looked at him, it was with a crease between their eyebrows and sympathy in their eyes. Matt baked him homegoods, Dan gave him a hug that lasted too long, Wymack told him that he was available if Neil ever wanted to talk, and now Nicky.</p><p>“I’ll take the sneakers,” Neil conceded. “But if I find out they’re pity shoes, I’ll throw them out the window.”</p><p>Nicky’s answering grin was ecstatic. “Great! Try them on.”</p><p>They fit snuggly. The blisters he’d had weeks ago had already healed from his time in the apartment, and he could tell these shoes would be a pleasant change for his feet.</p><p>Neil ignored Nicky’s smug grin and took them back off just as quickly. They settled back on the couch, the cookies from Matt on the cushion between them. They were chocolate chip, perfectly portioned. Even Nicky, who said he rarely ate human food, was surprised by Matt’s baking ability. Neil dipped his in milk. He wasn’t a fan of sweets, and couldn’t bear to eat many, but he didn’t have it in him to reject Matt’s gift.</p><p>Nicky ate more than half in record breaking time, then turned to Neil. “So, you met Kevin, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Weird how the only two humans in the building already knew each other. Though, I guess it makes sense. You’ve both got strange pasts, and somehow you’re both involved with the Moriyamas. Your life is pretty eventful, isn’t it?”</p><p>“I guess.”</p><p>“Maybe Andrew will let Kevin move back in here, so the two of you could have company.”</p><p>Neil imagined living with Kevin and had to stop himself from cringing. “I prefer the quiet.”</p><p>“But aren’t you friends?”</p><p>“Me and Kevin? No.”</p><p>“Oh, I guess I misunderstood.” Nicky hummed to himself. </p><p>“By the way,” Neil started, seeing the lapse in conversation as a chance for his own questions, “Why is Kevin here? He never really explained to me.”</p><p>“He conjured Andrew, just like you did.”</p><p>Neil didn’t conjure Andrew on purpose, but he didn’t bother correcting Nicky. “What did he ask Andrew for?”</p><p>“That’s between Kevin and Andrew.”</p><p>Neil glared at him. “Everyone in the building knows all of my business, including what I asked Andrew for.”</p><p>“That’s because what you asked for was deemed near impossible. This isn’t exactly a normal situation, Neil.”</p><p>No matter how abnormal the situation had become, Neil deserved his privacy, too. Knowing Kevin’s secrets remained well-kept only annoyed him. He knew it was unfair of him. Childish. The bitter part of him shutdown that rationality, though. He really, really hadn’t wanted to talk about the prophecy, and he was happy to blame Kevin for that.</p><p>Nicky laughed, startling Neil out of his short fit. When he saw Neil’s unamused stare, he waved his hands in defense. “Sorry. You’re just so well-tempered, usually. I’ve always liked the underlayers of a human’s exterior. All those complexities. It’s cute.”</p><p>Briefly, Neil wondered how to hurt a demon. </p><p>Refusing to be ridiculed for anything else, Neil kept quiet. It didn’t matter; Nicky knew how to keep a conversation going on his own. He talked about his recent “conquest”: a little girl in Athens, estranged and living in poverty, who’d only asked for her mother. While it was interesting, Neil didn’t want to hear it. There were too many out there like him - people so desperate for something that they’d call on another world.</p><p>Nicky’s brow furrowed mid-story, and he cut himself off. </p><p>“What?” Neil asked.</p><p>“The princess is back.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>Nicky sighed. “At least she brought Renee back with her.”</p><p>“Are you just going to ignore me?”</p><p>“Go see Matt and Dan,” Nicky suggested. “Everyone’s over there.”</p><p>“Everyone?”</p><p>“The last of The Tenth Circle you haven’t met.”</p><p>Neil sank deeper into the couch. “No thanks.”</p><p>Nicky’s look was sympathetic. “You don’t have to be scared.”</p><p>The thought almost made Neil laugh. If Neil was scared, he wouldn’t be in the building at all. </p><p>It was the idea of talking to strangers that delayed him. Demons or not, there were already too many people he’d spoken to in this building. Revealing himself as he was, full truth and real identity and all, left a lingering vulnerability. He had never felt so exposed. </p><p>There was no one they could really tell, of course. And they probably wouldn’t care about him. Neil was only an insignificant dot in their spanning lives. Everything about him was human, and therefore forgettable.</p><p>He only wanted to refrain from seeing his whole existence reflected in their eyes. They weren’t all-knowing, but they knew enough.</p><p>Whether he was too defensive or not, Neil would hide as much of himself he had left. He would guard all his thoughts and every last detailed piece of him. The smallest parts of him had so quickly become little trinkets he refused to share.</p><p>Realizing Neil had no intention to go meet the newcomers, Nicky left him. Neil was more than glad to spend the rest of the day alone. There were no creaks in the building, not a single sound from any other floor, leaving him in a long, solitary silence. He basked in it. And when evening turned to night, he opened the windows and let the air seep in. The white noise of the city floated around him. He forgot about his earlier sullen mood, so when Andrew eventually came back past midnight, Neil was no longer irritable.</p><p>“Hi,” he greeted the demon, who had turned up with a cold drink in hand, just like the first night they’d met. Andrew moved slowly across the room. “I hear a princess has returned.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Andrew hummed as he sipped his drink. He leaned against the back of the couch, facing the windows, while Neil faced him.</p><p>“How many people live here, anyway?”</p><p>“Ten.”</p><p>“Including me?”</p><p>Andrew gave him a long look. “Excluding.”</p><p>Neil tried to count all ten, but came up a name or two short. “Does Kevin live here?”</p><p>“Kevin,” Andrew repeated. His eyes, golden for once, seemed to ponder the name. “It’s a peculiar coincidence, isn’t it? That two humans who have summoned me and lived here have met before.”</p><p>“I didn’t know, Andrew.”</p><p>“Yes,” Andrew agreed. “You seem to know very little.”</p><p>Neil flexed his hand by his side. “And that’s my fault, somehow?”</p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>“You don’t trust me.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Neil crossed his arms to hide his clenched fists. He had done nothing to warrant Andrew’s mistrust. Andrew had found him dead, on a sigil he himself had not drawn. Summoning Andrew had been nothing but an accident, and if Andrew somehow thought Neil had manipulated the whole thing, he was giving Neil too much credit.</p><p>“So what is it, then?” Neil asked. “Do you think the Moriyamas sent me here, to spy on The Tenth Circle, since apparently you’re all such awful enemies. Or maybe Riko sent me for Kevin, and I’m meant to drag him back to his own personal hell?”</p><p>Andrew’s flat stare was unfazed. “Tell me something, Neil. Do you trust Kevin?”</p><p>“What?” Neil blinked, rethinking the question. “Why does that matter?”</p><p>“You don’t trust Kevin because he has connections to the Moriyamas. I don’t trust you for the same thing. See how it balances out? If you disagree, you’d be a hypocrite.”</p><p>“No. It isn’t the same. It’s not just Kevin I don’t trust.” Neil wasn’t one to put faith in anyone, for that matter. Kevin wasn’t special.</p><p>“It’s the principle.”</p><p>“What can I do?” Neil asked. The frustration bled out of him, and he was left feeling tired. “To prove I’m not lying?”</p><p>“Nothing. Guilty until proven innocent.”</p><p>“I think you’ve got that backwards.”</p><p>“That’s the way we prefer it,” Andrew replied, and Neil didn’t miss the use of the plural. </p><p>Neil was quiet for a long time. Andrew seemed content to wait him out, sipping his drink every few seconds. The lull gave Neil time to think, but he didn’t want to anymore. He wanted to listen to the soft nightlife. </p><p>“I found something on your bookshelf. An old clay board with stones. Nicky said it was a game.”</p><p>“Mancala,” Andrew said.</p><p>“Will you teach me?”</p><p>Andrew did. It wasn’t that hard to understand, and they played game after game until Neil leaned his head on the table during Andrew’s turn, and his eyes opened some time later to find himself on the couch, sunlight leaking in, heavy as gold.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Matt came over hours later, when Neil was staring out at the city, and said, “I made dinner.”</p><p>Neil couldn’t say no. Though he was hungry and bored, it was mostly Matt’s face that was hard to reject. He had a perpetual excitement about him, something too genuine and warm for Neil’s liking. It was the last face one would expect of a demon.</p><p>They went down to Matt’s. Unsurprisingly, Neil found two unfamiliar demons lounging on the couch, laughing with Dan.</p><p>The first was a presence. That was the only word Neil’s mind could supply. She felt large and powerful and bold. While Matt and Dan seemed normal, almost like humans in practice, this girl was anything but ordinary. Her head of blonde curls fell heavy down her back, her lips more red than her eyes. Her horns were taller than any other Neil had seen so far: they resembled a kudu, tall and twisting into narrowed points. Her nails were long and sharp. Her laugh rang loud, demanding to be heard.</p><p>The other demon was the opposite, at first glance. Smaller, hidden, disguised on purpose. Her eyes were not red - they were normal colors, a light and inconspicuous brown. Her hair was short and pale, the bottom colored in multiple pastels. At first Neil thought she had no horns. Upon closer inspection, he could see that one was simply short while the other was a stump. The stump was almost flat against her scalp, missing like a torn-off limb. Her eyes slid to Neil first, slow, and a shiver went down his spine. </p><p>Unsettling. That’s what they were.</p><p>Around Matt and Dan, around Nicky or even Andrew, it was easy to forget what these creatures were actually capable of. Sometimes he’d see glimpses of it: a snarl on Dan’s lips, or the deepening darkness in Andrew’s eyes. Neil didn’t think he’d forget again.</p><p>The first girl got up as soon as she noticed Neil, striding towards him with a purpose. </p><p>“No one told me he was this cute,” she said.</p><p>Matt cringed. “Neil, this is Allison.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>Allison grinned. “How’s it been living with the monster?”</p><p>Weren’t they all monsters? “Huh?”</p><p>“Andrew. I almost feel bad for you. Isn’t it terrifying? Isn’t it terrible?” She spoke as if she was excited by this idea, like terror brought a little extra joy to her life. Maybe it did.</p><p>“It’s been okay,” Neil said truthfully.</p><p>She pouted. “I was hoping for something juicy.”</p><p>The second demon came up from behind Allison, and put a hand on her back. “Let’s not provoke him,” she said, voice so soothing that it sounded like they were underwater, her words blurring in and out. She looked at Neil and added, “I’m Renee.”</p><p>Despite Allison’s abrasiveness, it was Renee who raised the hair on his arms. Neil nodded a greeting and was thankful when Matt took him to the kitchen, letting him make his own plate and sit on the counter stools while they spoke. </p><p>A few times, Neil looked over his shoulder. The girls on the couch were huddled together, moving and talking in harmony. Their conversation bounced off one another, and though Neil couldn’t hear them from where he sat, he could tell they fit together well, parts of a whole.</p><p>“Is it weird?” Matt asked, taking Neil out of his thoughts.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’m trying to see what you’re seeing. Three demons who love each other, who’re close as sisters.”</p><p>Neil tilted his head in thought. “It’s not weird. You love Dan.”</p><p>“You don’t think we’re… incapable of that? Love?”</p><p>“Matt, I don’t know enough about demons to judge you or presume what you’re capable or incapable of.”</p><p>Neil grunted in surprise when Matt wrapped his arms around him, bringing him in close to his chest. He smelt like trees and wood. </p><p>“Hey,” Allison called. “Stop hogging Neil. I want to talk to him, too.”</p><p>Matt tightened his grip, his tone joking. “No. Get your own human.”</p><p>“<i>Your</i> human?” she scoffed. “He didn’t summon <i>you</i>.”</p><p>“I don’t care.”</p><p>Despite their protests, Neil didn’t stay long. Matt wasn’t going to force him, so Neil guiltily claimed human exhaustion and headed out. Being the person (or demon) he was, Matt accompanied him back.</p><p>“Sorry,” Matt said in the elevator. “I know it can be overwhelming.”</p><p>Neil shook his head. “I like eating dinner with you.”</p><p>Matt’s answering smile was so wide and bright, Neil thought he’d suffer through anything just to see it again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i would die for matt</p><p>ps my only excuse about this very very very late update is that i got a full time job. a good ol 9-5. adulting is hard.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. grounding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's all about faith.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Neil,” Allison said, her tone dripping with displeasure. “I am sick of seeing you in the same two shirts.”</p><p>Unconcerned, Neil said, “Okay,” and turned back to Matt.</p><p>“Neil, seriously. Let me shop for you.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>After only a few days, Neil was beginning to understand Allison, and even anticipate her antics. He couldn’t avoid her like he’d hoped to. She was almost always around, filling any quiet spaces with her stubborn opinions and commentary. While there was something very wild about her, unhinged even, she was equally as real and grounded.</p><p>One minute it was, “I once stole a jewel from the Queen of England,” and the next it was, “Neil, let me paint your nails.”</p><p>More than once, Neil told her, “I’m not a doll for you to play around with,” to which she’d usually disagree.</p><p>“How are you so disinclined to accept a few extra shirts?” she continued now, still on about his outfit. “They’ll even be cheap, if you would like.”</p><p>“I don’t want any. Andrew has a washing machine.”</p><p>“It’s not about them being dirty. You have to be bored of those clothes by now.”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“Allison,” Dan cut in, laughing as she always did when Allison was nearby. “Let him be. He likes his clothes.”</p><p>She pouted. “But I don’t like them.”</p><p>“Leave him alone before I tell Renee on you,” Dan teased.</p><p>“Where is she, anyway?” Matt asked.</p><p>The pout on Allison’s plump lips turned to a serious frown, her gaze accessing the wall. “With the monster.”</p><p>That caught Neil’s attention. “She’s with Andrew?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes. The two have a… peculiar affinity for one another.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“It’s less than ideal.”</p><p>Matt leaned closer to Neil and mock-whispered, “Allison gets jealous.”</p><p>“Matt, wipe that shit-eating grin off your face.”</p><p>Matt did not.</p><p>“Oh,” Neil said again. “Are you and Renee…?”</p><p>“Are we what?” Allison demanded.</p><p>“No, they’re not,” Dan answered for her. She leaned back and sighed, like this fact was frustrating. “It’s painful to watch sometimes.”</p><p>“I will hurl you out the window,” Allison hissed, crossing her arms in resolution.</p><p>Dan wasn’t threatened. Instead, her grin reflected Matt’s, and the two continued to prod and tease Allison. Neil watched without comment. Seeing them bicker and laugh with horns sprouting from their heads was often baffling.</p><p>“By the way,” Dan said, interrupting Allison’s weak fury. “What was that with Kevin the other night?”</p><p>Allison groaned. “If I have to listen to Kevin bitch at me one more time, I’ll kill him. I don’t care what Wymack says. Or Andrew, for that matter.”</p><p>“Is this about the piano?”</p><p>“Yes. I never thought I’d have a human telling me to be quieter. Righteous little shit. It’s not even that loud!”</p><p>“He’s right above you.”</p><p>“So? Aaron doesn’t complain. Much.” Allison shrugged and crossed her arms. “Everyone in the building knows I can’t come back from a summoning without playing. And if I happen to play in the middle of the night, when I feel most formidable, then that’s his own problem.”</p><p>“He is obsessed with his sleep,” Dan laughed.</p><p>“I’m eager for him to move back in with Andrew,” Allison said. “Sorry, Neil.”</p><p>Neil lifted his head, surprised. “It’s fine,” he said, mostly because he could no longer imagine a time when his father would be dead, and he would actually be able to leave The Tenth Circle. He pushed the thought aside and focused on his own curiosity. “I have a question, though.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Why isn’t Kevin ever with you guys?” Neil looked at Matt. “Don’t you want to spend time with humans? Kevin is as good an option as I am.”</p><p>“Neil,” Matt said. “We don’t hang out with you just because you’re a human. We do it because we like you.”</p><p>“Besides,” Allison added. “I don’t want to be around Kevin any longer than I have to. He’s a pretentious, cranky asshole.”</p><p>“Be nice,” Dan warned. She turned to Neil, a patient smile on her lips. “We help each other out here, but not all of us get along so well. Andrew refuses to be in our company, and so the others follow suit. We often meet up at Wymack’s, or at each other’s places to discuss things relating to…” Dan hesitated. “To our place of creation.”</p><p>“Hell?” Neil asked, voice low, hesitant. </p><p>“Something like it.” Dan watched Neil for a second before continuing. “Kevin summoned Andrew, and so Kevin stays with Andrew or his brother at all times. Aaron blatantly has a diversion to our presence, so he avoids us. Nicky is civil at best, but he’s loyal to his cousins and spends time with them instead of us. That’s how it’s always been. Probably better for us all, too. There’s less fighting this way.”</p><p>Neil forced his hands to stop fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “And Renee?”</p><p>“Renee, well… she’s the closest thing we have to peace. For a demon, she’s tremendously balanced. Sometimes I even believe she has a soul. Andrew took a liking to her immediately, but he’s clear about his limits. She doesn’t push. There’s a line drawn.”</p><p>“Until you,” Matt told him, grinning all the while.</p><p>“Yeah,” Dan agreed, smiling too. “Until you.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Tell me what Kevin asked for when he summoned you.”</p><p>Andrew did not immediately answer him. It was expected - they’d been fairly quiet all night, enjoying the muted sounds of stone pieces being dropped into the Mancala board. Neil talked here and there, telling Andrew random thoughts he had and keeping the topic harmless. But sometimes he was bolder, usually fueled by a day of getting his questions answered by the others.</p><p>He wasn’t sure why he asked, or why it was the only thing he was aggressively curious about.</p><p>“Your Kevin obsession is not cute.”</p><p>“I’m not obsessed.”</p><p>“You’re not casually interested, either.”</p><p>“Andrew.”</p><p>“Ask Kevin. It’s his prerogative to provide you an explanation.”</p><p>“I don’t want to ask Kevin.”</p><p>“Because you dislike him to the point of obsession.”</p><p>Neil rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“You heard me,” Neil muttered, moving and collecting the last few pieces across the board. The game was over. “Let’s count pieces.”</p><p>“Don’t bother,” Andrew said. “I counted. You won.”</p><p>“Wait.” Neil sat up straighter to run his eyes over the coffee table, and each of their pile of stones. Admittedly, Neil’s pile looked larger. “Really?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>When Neil’s lips couldn’t control his widening grin, Andrew’s eyes narrowed just slightly.</p><p>“I feel as if I’m feeding a growing ego,” Andrew said.</p><p>“I just like winning against a demon. It’s a feat, you have to admit.”</p><p>“What does my demonic nature have to do with it?”</p><p>“I don’t know.  Don’t demons have better intuition? And your experience makes you sharper.”</p><p>“Have you met Nicky?”</p><p>Neil thought about it. No, Nicky didn’t seem to exhibit any omniscient characteristics. In fact, everyone in the building was so persistently different, it made them appear very mortal.</p><p>“Maybe it’s just you, then,” Neil said.</p><p>Neil was looking at the table, mindlessly playing with a stone. In the following silence, he looked up to find Andrew staring at him, the weight of his gaze nearly staggering. A breath of a moment passed before Andrew reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. Knowing what this meant, Neil followed him to the windows and pushed one open. The wash of fresh Boston air and cigarette smoke against his skin was almost too powerful, memories mixing with comfort, but the steady body beside him was grounding.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The Tenth Circle’s communal elevator was a terrifying, sentient being which Neil would fail to get used to. Without any buttons on the inside, the elevator took Neil exactly where he wanted to go without him ever saying it. Like the building recognized him now - like he belonged as much as any other demon here. Now, it descended down only one floor, chiming open into a clean, modern layout. </p><p>Without any front doors in the building, Neil’s sudden and unannounced presence in Aaron’s apartment felt unwelcomed. Even more so when he saw Aaron across the room, voice speaking low into a phone, a sneer directed at Neil.</p><p>“I have to go,” Aaron told the person on the other line. “I’ll call you tonight.”</p><p>“I’m just here to talk to Kevin,” Neil explained as soon as he’d hung up the phone.</p><p>“I didn’t ask.” Aaron started toward the hallway and stopped before he was out of sight. “You know, for how innocent and naive you present yourself to be, you have some very abnormal connections.”</p><p>“I didn’t come here to be criticized by you.”</p><p>Aaron’s eyes flashed red. “You’re in my home. I can say whatever I want to you.”</p><p>“Fine,” Neil said. “Keep bitching at me like a pissy infant. You’d think during your time as a demon you would have gotten yourself an actual personality, but it looks like all you’re good for is being a crotchety shrew.”</p><p>The red in Aaron’s eyes was prominent now. He stepped closer, frame visibly vibrating with the effort to hold back.</p><p>“Insult me all you want. You’re the one who will be gone soon, out of our lives and not a single memory to account for it.”</p><p>“I’m not scared of you.”</p><p>“I can feel your pulse quickening, Neil. You can’t lie to a demon.”</p><p>“It’s quickening because you’re annoying.” Neil looked around the apartment, his patience wearing out. “Is Kevin here or not?”</p><p>Aaron stared at him for a long moment before continuing down the hall. “Kevin!” he called once he was out of sight. “Visitor for you.”</p><p>A door clicked open and Kevin walked into view a moment later, eyes widening in surprise.</p><p>“Nath- Neil. Hi.”</p><p>“Try a little harder to get used to my name,” Neil said. </p><p>“Right.” Neither of them moved. “Did you want to talk?”</p><p>“I had a question for you.”</p><p>“Come here,” Kevin prompted, walking to the kitchen. Aaron’s apartment was sleek and clean, and the food on display was entirely different from the junk at Andrew’s. Kevin grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and passed one to Neil. “Okay. What’s up?”</p><p>“I just don’t understand how you got here, I guess.”</p><p>Kevin’s eyebrows rose. “I summoned Andrew a year ago.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Neil said, nodding. “I got that. But why are you still here?”</p><p>“Fair question. You’ve probably concluded why I bothered summoning Andrew, right?”</p><p>Neil had indeed made his own conclusions. “Did you want to get away from Riko?”</p><p>Kevin tapped his finger against his arm, then nodded. “I did. And then I asked Andrew to keep me safe from Riko. The best solution Andrew could do, and continues to do, is to watch over me himself. Riko is relentless, so being here is the safest choice. No demon can enter the building without Wymack’s permission.”</p><p>“Wymack must be strong, then.”</p><p>“He is. But you’d be surprised how much stronger some of them have become. Andrew has a presence that scares Riko himself.”</p><p>Neil thought about that and hoped his own father would meet Andrew one day; to possibly feel that same fear. He refocused on his original reason for coming here.</p><p>“You’re just staying here because of what you asked for?”</p><p>“Yeah. We’re in nearly the same situation, aren’t we?”</p><p>“That depends. When do you get to leave again? Is Andrew meant to keep you safe here for the entirety of your life?”</p><p>“We haven’t gotten there yet,” Kevin said, clearly put off by the question. “If Riko ever returns to the Inferno, I’ll be safe. But the Moriyamas are an above-ground group. They won’t stay underground, just like we won’t. I’m here indefinitely.”</p><p>Neil didn’t know whose situation was worse. They were both escaping powers much stronger than themselves. “We’re not the same, then. Andrew will kill my father soon, and my memories will be gone, and I’ll forget any of this even happened.”</p><p>“Neil…” Kevin started softly, trying to seem sympathetic. “Andrew has been searching relentlessly for weeks. He hasn’t slept. I’ve only seen him twice since you summoned him. I’m sorry, but I don’t think he’s close at all.”</p><p>A small wash of guilt rushed through him before he swallowed it. Andrew didn’t need his pity - he needed his patience. Now was not the time to question the demon’s capabilities.</p><p>“He’ll do it,” Neil said, voice flat.</p><p>“He’s trying, but it’s best not to be delusional, Neil. The Moriyamas are the strongest demons out there.”</p><p>“I subconsciously summoned Andrew for a reason. He’ll get it done.”</p><p>“You can’t be blindly optimistic.”</p><p>“God. You are such a dick.”</p><p>Kevin’s self-righteous demeanor turned offended, and he crossed his arms. “I’m trying to give you advice.”</p><p>“And what shitty advice it is. Kevin, how can you expect Andrew to protect you for the remainder of your life without having some faith in him?”</p><p>“That’s different.”</p><p>“It’s not,” Neil argued.</p><p>“It is because what I asked for is obtainable. Whether you knew what your father was capable of or not, it’s just not in Andrew’s power.”</p><p>“You know what? Just worry about yourself. I don’t want to hear your opinion, I don’t want to hear your voice, and I don’t want to see your face.”</p><p>“You came here, Neil.”</p><p>“You’re right. I won’t make that mistake again.”</p><p>Neil took one step and jolted back. Outside of the kitchen stood Aaron, his stare unhappy. </p><p>“Save the pathetic dispute for later. There’s a meeting at Wymack’s. It’s important.” Aaron looked between them. “We’re all going.”</p><p>Neil grit his teeth. He heard Kevin sigh beside him.</p><p>As the elevator doors opened, a small, black cat mewled in the corner. It rushed to Neil, bumping its head into his ankles and crisscrossing between his feet. Neil bent to pick the thing up, letting it curl up in his arms. Its frame vibrated with a deep purr and blinked at him with vague interest. Neil quietly exhaled, and let the warmth calm him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm on tumblr @<a href="https://anddreil.tumblr.com/">anddreil</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>